


Ink Traces

by Eitel



Category: Magi: The Labyrinth of Magic
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Drama & Romance, Fluff, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Judar's real name, M/M, Soulmates, Translation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-27
Updated: 2019-07-07
Packaged: 2020-05-20 19:02:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 26,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19382851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eitel/pseuds/Eitel
Summary: Your soulmate will get every word you write with ink on your skin.In childhood, Judar received many messages from his soul, but he never answered.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A really awful translation, just for fun xD  
> You are warned! :)

Judar never really thought about where his family was. As a child, he didn’t even really know what it was, thanks to the total control of Al-Thamen, that for a long time did not allow even fleeting meetings with any people who did not belong to the organization.

 The magi distinctly remembered his bewilderment at the sight of a baby — a giant baby — when he, along with Serendine, was looming around Sinbad. He heard about the experiments conducted in Parthevia, knew about the djinn and the djinn's vessels, knew how to use a bunch of different spells, but at the same time, he had no idea about where the children come from.

 Judar openly stared at the baby in the arms of that huge woman, his eyes wide open and without knowing where to put his hands, when Sinbad appeared next to him.

_ “Have you never seen a baby before?” _  He asked with an expression that was elusive for the magi, who did not communicate too much with people who were not trying to destroy the world. Of course, he decided that this was neglect, and got angry.

 “Judar!”

 He frankly ignored the voice coming from below, pressing closer to the trunk of the tree. Experience suggested that if he ignored someone long enough, even the most intrusive will back off.

 He just wanted to be left in peace for a while. It seemed that the enthusiasm would not have returned, even if Hakuryuu had come running to him now, with his tail between his legs and praying to lead him through a dungeon.

 Seriously, he needed some time to think about what that little kid showed him in Balbadd.

 "Judar, get down!"

 He could not simply deny the visions he had seen, no matter how much he wanted to. He could not just ignore them, could not continue to play tricks at the usual pace. He was simply stuck on the tree again, refusing to get down and acknowledge the possibility that if it were not for Al-Thamen, he would have had a completely different life.

 "Stop sulking and get down immediately!"

 The power to freely choose your path and to act freely, without obeying orders from anyone, just following your whims.

 “Judar!”

 The magi reflexively dodged, habitually applying the gravity magic, so as not to fall from the branch. He blinked several times and threw up his head, returning from the world of endless thoughts and torments to the real one. He looked to the side and saw a well-known hairpin stuck in the bark of the tree right next to the place where his face had been before.

 Snorting irritably, in one sharp motion he pulled out the djinn's vessel, stifling his right of a magi to summon it, and glanced down. No less angered, Kougyoku stood on the ground, staring stubbornly at him and putting her hand to her side. In the other, she held an inkwell with a pen, only a glance at which did not foreshadow Judar anything pleasant.

 "And so you treat your vessel and precious magi?" He asked, using magic to slowly get down to the ground a few meters away from her.

 “Only if this "most precious" magi thinks he is allowed to ignore me for the third day in a row.” The princess replied, chuckling, and persistently extended her hand palm up. Without thinking twice, Judar unceremoniously threw the vessel back at her and yawned and stretched his neck, watching the girl clumsily catch it, almost spilling ink. "Well, what are you doing!"

 Carefully returning the hairpin to its rightful place in her hair, Kougyoku, rummaging a little in the inner pockets of her clothes, held out the magi a juicy peach. At its sight, Judar felt his mouth fill with saliva and he tried to remember whether he had eaten at all today. Or yesterday.

 However, not too big a problem for a wizard to starve a couple of days.

 Forgiving the princess an attempt to stab him with a hairpin, Judar accepted the gift with a sigh and, without thinking twice, bit off.

 Tasteless.

 “So why are you here?” Nevertheless, the magi decided to ask, watching Kougyoku gracefully sit down on the ground, laying out the objects in front of her.

 Elegantly putting her hands on her knees, the girl nodded to the place in front of her, urging him to sit down too.

 A long conversation, it means. Not the best thing for his mood.

 “You need to contact your soulmate.” She said bluntly, as soon as he accepted the offered position.

 Judar stared at her for a long moment. They have already discussed this issue in the past, repeatedly and to no avail.

 “I don’t think so.” He briefly formulated his opinion.

 The magi expected the same as usual. The conviction that communication with the soulmate is the best thing that can happen to a person at all is an extremely unconvincing statement from a person whose own soulmate did not answer even once.

 “I knew you would say that.” He heard instead, which had already earned his puzzled look. Since she knew, why did she come? "I will write instead of you."

 Judar froze for a few seconds, trying to digest what he heard.

“You cannot replace your soulmate with someone else's.” He remarked cautiously, not understanding what Kougyoku was getting at.

 “I know.” She answered immediately, stubbornly not taking her eyes off his face. "I just want you to know that your soulmate is always with you, will always answer if you decide to contact them."

 There was some kind of logic in her words that the magi could not understand.

 "You can not know that someone will answer."

 “It's worth a shot.” She said calmly, only fueling Judar’s uncertainty. "Just take off your bracelets."

 The magi froze under her gaze. He remembered pretty well what the old men from Al-Thamen had promised to do if he tried to contact his soulmate, but Kougyoku did not know anything about it. She probably thought he was just being stubborn.

 But now he wanted to rage. Blow to hell everything that they created, that the murderers of his family, which he didn’t even properly remember, crippled. Resist orders, shout about disobedience, and not wait, wait, wait until the right moment comes, the right ally, to destroy everything that is hated.

 In the end, it’s not he who contacts his soulmate, but the eighth princess of the Kou Empire.

 What a pathetic excuse.

 Keeping an eye on Kougyoku, Judar felt with his fingers the butt on the bracelets on his left arm and pulled them off using magic, wincing slightly at the pain. White, unburned skin looked especially pathetic on the border with the darker.

 The girl settled on his right side, clearly trying to imitate the way he would have written a message. Dipping a pen into ink, she put a modest “ ** Hi ** ” on his left arm with a slightly shaking hand, managing to leave a medium-sized blob out of excitement.

 “Seriously.” Judar asked, without even knowing what he was talking about, a scant word or her carelessness.

 "Hush!" She said shyly, putting down the pen and staring at his hand as if the answer to the main riddle of the universe was written on it.

 It was, of course, a little awkward to destroy her hopes, but the magi was sure that his soulmate would not respond, even if he was still alive. As a child, he received dozens of messages every day, carefully wrapping his hands so as not to see them at all. Judar never answered. If his soulmate is a freak like him, now he will not answer for anything.

 And if he will answer him, he will have to wind up his hands again, this time so that no one else can see. Always remove and put on bracelets would be too big a hassle.

 But of course, no one will answer him.

 Kougyoku stubbornly pressed her lips into a flat line, twisting her head in different directions, as if hoping that the answer could be written somewhere else. Judar was beginning to feel that in minutes of silence his heart, beating heavily in his chest, fell into the stomach, leaving behind a pulling nasty feeling when he winced at the light, teasing touch of a pen to his hand.

 Not the pen that laid motionless next on the ground.

 Neat letters slowly appeared on his hand by themselves, forcing Kougyoku to press her palms to her face so as not to give out a delighted exclamation. The magi had forgotten how to blink and breathe, without taking his eyes off the word that someone who could be hundreds of kilometers away wrote.

 " ** Hello ** ".

 "See? They answered."

 ***

 No matter how hard Sinbad avoided formal and pompous things, it was impossible to get away from some. For example, from letters. Sometimes it seemed to him that the world was ruled by letters alone. Especially now, far away from his country.

 Letters of congratulations, letters of invitation, letters of suggestion and exhortation. Full of refined and only hardly understandable turns, always written by the hand of the king.

 Letters, letters, letters.

 When Sinbad felt the pen's weightless touch on his left hand, he only thought he went a little crazy, as he finished the third paragraph of his infinite gratitude to the allies, and only glanced to the side, making sure that no insect annoyed him.

 " ** Hi ** ".

 The king froze with his hand in the air, noticing that the ink from the pen left on the almost finished letter a blob of almost the same size as the insecure hand of his soulmate, hopelessly smearing it. At this moment, however, Sinbad's mind was elsewhere.

 "Ja'far. Ja'far!" He immediately cried out, feeling that now he needed more than ever the composure and the firm hand of his first adviser in order not to mess things up.

 The next second, Sinbad, with a weary moan, remembered that he had left him to rule Sindria. There was no one to stop the flow of his awkwardness and inappropriate remarks, appearing like mushrooms after rain because of excitement.

 His soulmate has never sent messages to him.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope, my translation is at least readable. And, well, if you find some mistakes or strange places, just tell me.

“They answered.” Kougyoku repeated excitedly, as if it was her soulmate, and added with pressure, “Answered."  
  
Judar tried to look as unimpressed as possible with this fact, pulling on the most indifferent mask. It would have been much easier to convince himself of the unimportance of this event if his heart had not pounded so loudly that the princess sitting next to him definitely had to hear that.  
  
This princess sighed deeply and slowly, clearly and unsuccessfully trying to calm down.  
  
“Oh.” She breathed. “Judar. Judar! What should I write to him? Or to her? I-It doesn't matter! What should I write?"  
  
The magi stared at her in surprise. Did she come here without preparing the slightest topic for a conversation? It seems that even the princess did not believe that his soulmate would answer him.  
  
“I don't care.” He answered, looking at the building in the distance and trying to relax his tense back.  
  
With a hint of reproach, Kougyoku bowed her head.

“I'll write like that then.” She announced with a bit of a threat. “My name is Judar and I usually behave like an ass.”  
  
The magi could not help it and grunted.  
  
"You can leave the second part, but no names."  
  
Pressing her lips, his candidate began the anniversary staring contest, frowning and trying to frighten him with the appearance of an angry woman. She got the wrong guy for that.  
  
Suddenly realizing in a few minutes that they had bogged down with the soulmate in an awkwardly prolonged pause, Kougyoku broke off eye contact and helplessly looked around, trying to find at least some topic for conversation.  
  
" **Today is such a wonderful weather.** " The most original phrase occurred to her.  
  
Judar began to feel sorry for the soulmate on the other side for a completely new reason.  
  
This time, this someone at least responded faster, clearly moving away from the initial shock.  
  
“ **Actually, I now have a thunderstorm here.** ” His soulmate confessed.  
  
Judar was definitely not going to find out where bad weather reigned in this world right now.  
  
Having lost all of her fighting fuse, Kougyoku stooped in confusion, absently stroking the pen with her fingers. The position of the eighth princess, who was avoided even by the maidservants, clearly did not contribute to the ability to take the initiative and come up with new topics of conversation more often than once a day.  
  
If Judar were now at the place of his soulmate, he would have decided by that moment that the other side drank themselves senseless and, gnawed by guilt, rushed to write and fall asleep in the process.  
  
The magi could not refrain from noticeable irritation, when his soulmate - too indifferent and active in his opinion - began to draw something on the wrist. He would prefer by this time to say goodbye to the awkward silence and go back to previous business - even if there was no business at all.  
  
"You really have nothing else to do?" He tried again to show off the princess, to which she only _nagged_ on him, grasping his hand in order to better see the pattern.  
  
Grimacing at the nails that had stuck into the skin, Judar, completely bored, leaned back, settling himself on his side and about to finally embark on a lazy afternoon nap, what deserved him a disgruntled look from his general.  
  
Sighing again, he closed his eyes. He could benefit from the situation. For once, he could rely on Kougyoku to wake him up if Al-Thamen’s puppets come again, or she could even chase them away.  
  
Against _her_ , however, nothing can be done.  
  
Startled by an unpleasant sensation running down his spine, Judar twisted, trying to get comfortable with the fact that Kougyoku still held his hand and stared at it.  
  
"Do you know what this is?" Of course, the princess just needed to ruthlessly poke him in the side and shove his wrist right in his face.  
  
Knowing that she would not lag behind if she did not see at least a minimum of effort, Judar blinked sleepily several times and slightly moved away, focusing his gaze on the drawing.  
  
So-so artist from his soulmate. Some blots and a bunch of obscure lines.  
  
The magi made a negative shake of his head.  
  
Kougyoku started writing something very ticklish on his hand.  
  
“This is a cat on the fence and a dog.” She told him after a while. In fact, now everything is much clearer. “You know what that story is?”  
  
“I have no idea.” He answered quite honestly and opened one eye to look at the intently reading girl.  
  
“They say their mother often told it them.” The princess shared with him a new batch of completely useless information.  
  
"Wow."  
  
"Oh! Now they write it. I will read it for you." And she really began to read what was written, line by line.  
  
Finished by the enthusiasm of this couple, Judar groaned exhaustedly, trying to close with his free hand the ear that was suffering from the monotonous story. Of course, this was not enough to stop Kougyoku from her plans.  
  
What is going on here? Is this guy trying to figure out where he, the magi, comes from? Will he start telling all the fairy tales from different countries he knows until he stumbles upon a familiar one? Well, Judar would rather die out of boredom or run away from the palace and the assertive princess.  
  
Although Kougyoku was frankly terrible in telling stories, stumbling on every other word, making mistakes in the intonations and now forgetting about pauses, now overdoing with them, there was something in it. Even if he tried his best to show his irritation and not to listen to the words.  
  
"And then the cat said: "You, dog, look, but you do not see." The end. ” The princess finished with a clearly audible pride in her voice, and fell silent, obviously expecting some kind of response from him.  
  
Shit. He knew that feeling. The feeling that he will remember this phrase for life. Just like “Maybe we should learn how to make friends? Together.” and “I want to show you something. ” Or "Also my enemy."  
  
This sucks.  
  
“He has to work...” Kougyoku read the answer of his soulmate and sighed in frustration. What did she expect? That they would sit and chat so day and night?  
  
Another merciless jab straight into the ribs.  
  
“Judar! If they write, be sure to answer!" The magi mocked snort in response. "Or come to me. If you don’t come, I’ll still see what they wrote to you."  
  
Indeed, the damn inscriptions sent by a soulmate could not be erased a whole day, they disappeared on their own. No salvation.  
  
When Kougyoku left, Judar hesitated a bit and rose abruptly, looking around. His gaze fell on the forearm, on which words of an impossible long story flaunted. Put the bracelets back on or don't wear them - now it's no use whatsoever.  
  
As he left, he did not pick up the ink bottle left by the princess.


	3. Chapter 3

Judar could not help but admit that Kougyoku had grown into a frightening woman. It was hard to believe that the youngest princess, who in childhood had to be dragged from under the table, was so successful in the art of hunting, patiently and methodically tracking her prey and preparing baits.  
  
He still could not believe that he fell for these baits.  
  
Following some incredible feminine instinct, the princess sought and drafted exactly that food he had thought about yesterday, in the morning, or even half an hour ago. And each time she managed to convince him somehow that her gifts were worth sitting quietly for some time.  
  
Over the past few weeks, he visited every secluded place in the palace he knew, but he could not find a salvation from the princess.  
  
Kougyoku was not stopped even by the fact that he was hiding from her on the roof. Judar could not help feeling sorry for her future husband. The king of Balbadd had no idea how lucky he was to lose his title.  
  
"I think it's time to summarize what we know about your soulmate!" The magi could only envy her unkillable resolute mood.  
  
He just mumbled something unintelligible in response and, finishing a piece of watermelon, moved closer to the edge, looking for his next victim.  
  
"This is a man. And he loves to tell stories. And he is complexing, if you joke that only old people can talk and lecture so much."  
  
Judar chuckled. A soldier passing below fell under a line of watermelon seeds. The first pancake, however, was a bit tricky, and the victim did not even notice the attack, only looking around in bewilderment.  
  
"He is very knowledgeable about a wide variety of countries. So he travels a lot because of his profession. Maybe a merchant?"  
  
Making sure that no one was going to pass by, the magi reached for the next slice of watermelon.

“Or just a loser.” He suggested.  
  
Kougyoku frowned, obviously dissatisfied with his frivolous attitude to such an important matter.  
  
"Where does the loser have money to travel?" She asked seriously.  
  
“I have no idea.” The magi responded without much interest. “But believe me, either rich people or complete losers are roaming from place to place."  
  
Judging by how incredulously Kougyoku pursed her lips, his words did not have much weight for her. Realizing that right now she was struggling to come up with a special example to refute his words, Judar, demonstrating complete indifference to her subsequent arguments, returned to the shelling of passersby, choosing a servant, who was hurrying somewhere, to be his new goal.  
  
The princess briefly huffed for a while, but then returned to a matter that seemed more important to her.  
  
“The way he skillfully handles the words suggests that he is very educated.” The magi saw out of the corner of his eye how the princess gave him another eloquent look, trying to hint that there are no educated losers.  
  
Oh, how little she knew.  
  
"He writes in the general language, and in some dialect. Only we have no idea in which."  
  
This is where Judar could well argue. You see, he knew very well what _dialects_ his soulmate used, apparently trying to figure out where his interlocutor was from. In conversation, both the colloquial Balbad dialect, the high-flown Parthevian speech, and the intricate Rem turns were slipping. Although some words were unfamiliar even for the magi, it was more surprising that there was not even a hint of any of the three main dialects of the Kou empire. Apparently, no matter what a great traveler his soulmate was, the lands on this side of the mountain range were unfamiliar to him.  
  
Fortunately, Kougyoku, who grew up within the walls of the palace and even now rarely left it, used only the general language without giving the slightest clue about her origin. Her interlocutor could only decide that she was the daughter of a rich family, but nothing more.  
  
However, Judar had no desire to fill the princess in on all these details.  
  
The more useless information about his soulmate Kougyoku voiced, the more bored he became. He remembered most of the details from his childhood, from what he then managed and wanted to make out of the messages that he received in dozens every day.  
  
In no case did he want to share this knowledge.

"And he writes that his favorite flower is a lotus!" With incomprehensible joy, the princess said.

Please, he doesn't want her to try to find out what his favorite flower was. He will not stand it, he'll jump from the third floor.

His soulmate saved him from escaping, once again writing something so intricate on his left hand that Kougyoku calmed down for a few minutes, perplexedly looking at the inscription.  
  
Judar was even a little curious, while he removed the sticky watermelon juice with magic from his fingers, sending a reddish ball of liquid to attack on another passerby.  
  
“I don't quite understand what he means.” The princess admitted reluctantly. Someday she will learn to spend less than a minute trying to admit her ignorance. "He asks if you would give him your flower."  
  
The magi choked on air and coughed, without his stick easily losing control of magic and allowing his projectile to turn into a distant puddle on the ground without any harm to others.  
  
For the first time today, he glanced at his left hand, easily finding a separate phrase standing for greater impressiveness and making sure Kougyoku read everything correctly.  
  
She did and now attentively looked at him with her big bright eyes.  
  
 “Well...” Judar drawled tentatively, without deceiving himself about the princess’s experience in romantic affairs. "He hits on you."  
  
"Hits on?" Asked Kougyoku, covering the lower part of her face with the sleeve and tilting her head to the side. "What does it mean?"  
  
His hopes that she would back off without understanding were vain.  
  
"He asks if _you_ would sleep with him." After another hitch he reluctantly translated.  
  
After just one moment, the princess began to blush thickly, and then turned away. But even so, she could not hide the prickly tips of her ears.  
  
Judar felt awkward.  
  
"Why did he decide that he was talking to a girl?" She asked, clearly in a trembling voice.  
  
The magi sighed.  
  
"By handwriting?" He suggested.  
  
Kougyoku wilted even more. After some time, when the protracted pause began to get even on his nerves, Judar opened his mouth, about to give out another priceless mockery of the girl, but she was ahead of him.  
  
“I don’t even want to know how _you_ do know such phrases.” She murmured.  
  
Judar chuckled. Her tone no longer resembled the whining dolphin's.  
  
“I think it would be better for both of us if you never know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sinbad, of course, is incomparable in flirting with everything that moves, but gives up a lot when it comes to his soulmate XD


	4. Chapter 4

The next day, by the time he began to worry a little that Kougyoku still managed to get lost somewhere in the palace, one of the faceless and nameless maidservants dragged him a shabby piece of paper and respectfully fawned, that it was from the eighth princess.  
  
“Ka Kobun went berserk! Answer and write!”  
  
Judar was not too surprised by this behavior of the princess helper. Rather, he was a little amazed that Kougyoku was able to escape from him and her duties every day in order to devote her time to the lazy magi. If she returned yesterday after their meeting in a state of frustration, all red with embarrassment, then Kobun simply could not help restricting her freedom of movement and forcing her to take on forgotten business, having decided for certain that the princess was one step from a terrible mistake.

Looks like that’s all.  
  
On the first day, his soulmate, accustomed to the fact that Kougyoku always wrote first, was silent.  
  
On the second day, his soulmate wrote something, but he did not pay attention.  
  
On the third day, his soulmate wrote him something every few hours, but he had already returned the bracelets to the proper place.  
  
Judar felt it was a bit cruel, but he had long been used to ignoring the voice of conscience.  
  
On the fourth day, before leaving his room, he threw a glance at the mirror and found fat black lines of ink on his face.  
  
Three on the right cheek, three on the left. One eye is circled. Oily point on the tip of the nose.  
  
He froze, staring at his own shocked face. As he reached to his cheek, he ran his finger along one of the lines, then glanced at it. There was no trace. There was not even a smell. So this is definitely not a joke of someone from the palace of the Kou empire.  
  
Gritting his teeth in anger, Judar began to pull the bracelets off his left hand, wincing at the pain because of his own carelessness. He knew back then that there was no point in putting them on again.  
  
Irritatingly throwing them at the wall, the magi looked around. At the very beginning of this idiotic venture, Kougyoku dragged into his room everything he needed to connect his soulmate. She even laid it next to his bed.  
  
The usual pen clearly could not express his feelings about the new war paint, so Judar dipped his thumb in the ink-pot and boldly drew “ **What the hell** ” on his left hand.  
  
Exhaling slowly through clenched teeth, he removed the caustic liquid from his finger with magic. How he hated that smell.  
  
Almost immediately, he regretted what he had done. It was necessary to just continue to ignore this guy, sooner or later he would back off. Somehow they perfectly lived without each other for the past nineteen years.  
  
And he fell for a painted face and lost his temper.  
  
Was it too late to pretend that he had no soulmate, or not?  
  
And this guy obviously knew how to enjoy the victory. Judar had to wait almost a quarter of an hour before he deigned to answer. The magi could easily imagine how, without hiding his extremely crooked and smug smile, this guy lazily counted the minutes. It was he, Judar, who couldn’t stick his nose out the door, so as not to be seen by annoying servants, whose life vocation was to spread rumors and complement them with ridiculous details, and his soulmate probably washed away the traces of this cat-like disgrace.  
  
" **Sorry, the children of a friend were naughty** ".  
  
Of course, he forgave him immediately. Over all these years, something like this has never happened, and now so suddenly, completely unexpectedly and unintentionally.  
  
“ **So I believed you, you idiot.** ” He wrote, gritting his teeth once more, this time using the pen.  
  
The answer again lingered for a few minutes, forcing Judar to squeeze his palms into fists.  
  
" **You are not the girl with whom I spoke earlier** ".  
  
" **Right** ".  
  
" **As I thought** ".  
  
The magi snorted, imagining how much this guy could have already assumed.  
  
" **Such a nice person like her would not ignore her soulmate** ".  
  
A new unaccountable wave of anger rose in him.  
  
" **Go to hell** ".  
  
All this useless exchange of courtesies left Judar exhausted, not allowing to assign hundreds of exclamation marks and skulls to his message.  
  
His soulmate fell silent again, and he hoped that this time forever. He is not a nice girl and in every second sentence he sends his soulmate to hell. This they found out, now that guy can disperse.  
  
“ **In fact, I am even happy about this. That that girl is not my soulmate** ”.  
  
Perhaps they will tread a little more in one place, together they will decide that he is hopeless and will be silent for another twenty years? The magi, who flopped on the bed, had the strength only for one single word:  
  
" **Insane** ".  
  
" **Ha ha ha!** "  
  
In fact, so hilarious.  
  
“ **I think you're right.** ” His soulmate immediately continued. “ **I'm too insane to seriously get involved with normal girls.** ”  
  
Judar hovered for a moment, staring at his hand. This guy just called the eighth princess of the Kou Empire, the dungeon capturer with the craziest smile on this side of the Tenzan mountains _a normal girl_? The answer to this could be only one:  
  
" **Ha** ".  
  
And what does it mean to “seriously get involved”?  
  
Unable to briefly and clearly describe his relationship with each of the generals, Judar reduced the Kougyoku version to a general point in a brief phrase:  
  
" **Watch your mouth, she is my younger sister** ".  
  
" **I will try not to offend her when we meet** ".  
  
Judar frowned as he watched the words manifest. Due to the lack of space, or rather its previous uneconomical use, his soulmate continued on his forearm.  
  
" **What makes you think that you will meet her** ".  
  
" **You seem very close** ".  
  
Magee grimaced, realizing what his interlocutor was getting at. Clutching the pen in his hands, he crossed out the word “her” in his last sentence and signed from above “me”.  
  
The answer came almost immediately:  
  
“ **This is what all soulmates do.** **They restrain the Fall by their presence** ”.  
  
Judd laid back on the bed, squinting, peering into even lines of words. Of course, during his travels, he also heard the words of religious fanatics, wailing about the need for constant closeness with the soulmate and threatening with eternal oblivion otherwise. A strange choice of arguments for the meeting, to his taste. Or is this guy himself one of these fanatics? He travels the world, does not know how not to tell stories - it sounds very similar.  
  
Disgusting.  
  
The magi was more than sure that he knew far more about the Fall than almost any other person. In his case, no soulmate could correct or prevent anything.  
  
" **You don't seem to understand it** ".  
  
“ **Then explain to me.** ” In clearly blurred, hurried handwriting his soulmate answered.  
  
But wasn't it clear that he would now begin to explain?  
  
He had to invent some plausible lie, not mentioning Al-Thamen. Judar was beginning to feel that his life was reduced to explaining the essence without explaining it.  
  
“ **Our family sees the cause of the Fall in the existence of the soulmates. Contacting them is prohibited. If possible, they are killed** ”.  
  
" **I never heard of such thing** ".  
  
How self-confident. Another pinch of lies.  
  
" **And yet there is not a single incident of the Fall in many generations** ".  
  
After waiting for a bit of an answer, but not having received it, Judar continued, trying to intimidate his soulmate:  
  
" **If someone tries to use the connection to find out who you are or where you are, never answer** ".  
  
Judar stretched his sore shoulders. Is he making enough drama?  
  
“ **I will understand that this is not your handwriting. Besides, I am more than confident that I can protect myself** ”.  
  
How self-confident, indeed.  
  
“ **That could be me who will be writing.** **Now you only freak me out a little, but,** ” Judar stiffened, unable to explain how much he does not control himself when the density of the black rut increases, crossed out the last word and redid the comma into a bullet point. " **Do not forget later that there was me who did not wish you anything bad.** "  
  
He's stumped him, right?  
  
After all, he really did not wish him anything bad _right now_.


	5. Chapter 5

" **I am somewhat surprised that your sister contacted me under such circumstances** ".  
  
“ **Many things are forgivable for girls who are leaving the paternal home.** ” Judar got out of it. In any case, he was not going to let Kougyoku continue this game.  
  
" **I see** ".

Then his soulmate fell silent. The magi got out of bed and headed for the carafe of water on the table. That liquid, which he collected with the help of magic, did not taste good, to put it mildly.  
  
Pouring water into a glass painted with symbols of the empire, Judar felt the body begin to treacherously surrender to the approaching famine. Apparently, the lack of food from the eighth princess began to make itself apparent.  
  
A tickling wave ran over his hand again and Judar glanced at it: “ **So you have a sister.** **And I am the only child in the family** ". Judar finished the water, set the glass aside and leaned on the tabletop with a sigh, clearing his thoughts.  
  
A dazzling bright square, not covered by heavy curtains and illuminating the whole room, clearly showed that now was the very time when everyone was running around the palace. He could hide his face, or catch one of the servants and threaten them, or...  
  
The shrill on his hand distracted him again, and Judar stared at it, trying to understand why this guy began to draw something on it, vaguely reminiscent of flowers painted by a toddler. And painted over every second petal. Played tic-tac-toe with himself. The action moved to the right hand, demonstrating that his soulmate was not a left-handed person. It was only after a bit that Judar realized that he was practicing writing the alphabet. On his skin.  
  
A tiny effort to apply the gravity magic - and the pen floated smoothly through the air to him.  
  
“ **What are you doing.** ” He barely found a free space among these wilds of art. Remaining ink on the pen was not enough even to finish the last word to the end.  
  
" **I'm waiting** ".  
  
Okay. So, while his soulmate has the right to sit back in his chair - or where he was sitting - during a conversation and to think about the meaning of life, Judar was denied the opportunity just to go for water.  
  
What should he write in response to such revelations? "Sorry, my soul, but I absolutely do not care about you and your family"? Previous experience suggested that he will not achieve anything with that.  
  
Thoughtfully rolling from toe to heel several times, Judar moved back to the bed and fell face-down on it, without putting his hands in front of him. He had already reached the highest level of skill in the art of idleness, but it did not bring the usual relaxation and laziness in the case when it was forced.  
  
To be stuck alone in his room, locked up, enduring an annoying light tickle, was not the same as to be sitting on a tree and indulging in gloomy thoughts, enjoying the breeze.  
  
Raising himself on his elbow, Judar looked around, cheered on by the hope that somewhere in his room there could be a volume on magic tattered from the road from Magnostadt. But no, one lover of books, obviously, swept through the room like an uninvited whirlwind, returning them all to their rightful place in the library. This lover will regret it later.  
  
Moving his bored gaze to his right hand, stoically tolerating the attacks of his soulmate, he saw something remotely resembling a portrait of a person. The magi, it seems, somewhere even saw a similar woman. Pulling up an inkwell that hadn’t been turned upside down by a miracle, Judar dipped the pen into it and joined a fresh grid of tic-tac-toe, clumsily drawing with his left hand an eerily crooked zero. He clicked his tongue, feeling that he would have done better even being drunk.  
  
His soulmate immediately continued. The magi lost once. Twice. Thrice. He was always too lazy to think now and before when he was spending time with this game with one of his candidates during long flights.  
  
Judd flinched, feeling the pen touch on his right side. Rolling over, he made sure that his soulmate really decided to write out every part of his body: " **It seems that you are not too good at this** ". The magi raised his hand, looking at the indelible ink marks. If he simply decided, as in childhood, to wrap bandages around the places where his soulmate had written something, he would have looked like a mummy.  
  
He had somewhere more decent clothes for ceremonies, to toe, and with long sleeves, but he could not stand them. It was enough that in his childhood he was dressed in decorated clothes weighing almost as much as himself, like a doll.  
  
“ **Enough to write everywhere, or I’ll get snuffed out.** ” He added next to the last message of his soulmate.  
  
“ **Got it.** ” Appeared beside. " **Where may I?** "  
  
Judar ruthlessly drew lines above the arts and words, highlighting roughly the parts that were usually covered by his bracelets.  
  
“ **Got it.** ” his soulmate repeated. And soon he added, to the great relief of Judar. " **I have to go. But I've got something else to tell you.** ”  
  
The magi squinted suspiciously.  
  
" **Answer me within a day** ".  
  
Like he had nothing else to do.  
  
“ **Otherwise, who knows what could happen.** ” And he drew an ominously happy cat face.  
  
Judar clenched his teeth in anger. The hero of his invented story about a family that hates soulmates should not walk around with presents from that very soulmate on his face.  
  
“ **And you are not afraid.** ” He hastily scrambled until this guy ran away on his business, and circled the cat.  
  
" **I have understanding friends.** " The magi received in response and frowned. He simply could not let the guy who spoiled his whole day go unpunished.  
  
He slowly wrote the word " **idiot** " on his forehead, so that it was easy to read from the side, and immediately removed with magic the inscriptions he wrote and returned the ink back to the inkwell.  
  
How he hated that acrid smell.


	6. Chapter 6

A few days later he and his soulmate managed to come to a shaky agreement between two opposing opinions “I want to know everything about you” and “I do not want you to know anything about me.”  
  
Reluctantly Judar agreed to give honest and detailed answers to those questions that, in his opinion, did not give clues about his personality or location. For all the rest, his soulmate had to be content with irritated " **It doesn't matter** ".  
  
Up to this point, he even had no idea that someone could ask so many meaningless questions about _appearance_. Starting from the standard about the hair, eye, skin color and ending up with some kind of completely forced ones about the shape of eyes, nose, feet and the like.

His soulmate received the same answer to all these questions, but, obviously, stayed positive and continued to invent something new, as if hoping that Judar would replace anger with mercy, realizing that the number and location of moles were interesting for him.  
  
At some point, the magi began to feel that it was easier to order a seal with these three words from someone in the palace so as not to waste time.  
  
But he couldn't dismiss other questions. In the end, he had to share with this stubborn guy that _no, he hates vegetables_.  
  
And _no, he has no girlfriend_.  
  
And _yes, he is lazy, and his memory really sucks_.

“ **Have you read my books?** ” The magi, who settled on the tree in the inner garden, read the short question several times.  
  
“ **I don’t even know your name.** ” He replied.  
  
Or not?  
  
It can't be that he learned the name of his soulmate, and then just forgot it?  
  
Or not?  
  
" **What do you mean?** "  
  
Puzzled, Judear tilt his head to the side and froze, listening to the sound of footsteps coming from afar. Except for _her_ no one in the whole palace surrounded themselves with such an enormous entourage warning of their approach no worse than a cowbell.  
  
“ **Quiet.** ” He wrote quickly, ignoring the words that had begun to appear from the other side and feeling his hands shake a little. He closed the inkwell and hid it with a pen to his wand. The magi leaned back against the trunk of a tree, and took a deep breath, letting the black rukh rage at the thought of Gyokuen and her modest contribution to his present life.  
  
“Ah, Judar, what's up with you? Come down here. ” The words from below came, and the magi, with obvious reluctance, looked at the emperor's wife and obeyed.  
  
As soon as he got a little closer, she grabbed his hand - he had long suspected that women in the Kou empire hid real claws under their long sleeves, which they used to intimidate their opponents - and clung to him softly.  
  
Judar sensed the tide of stranger's black rukh — denser than his own, he could not help but recognize — and grimaced visibly. He believed that over the years, Gyokuen had already developed a habit of grabbing everything that moves and trying to subordinate it to her will, turning into depravity.  
  
Or maybe it's just her way to say hello.  
  
“I was told that Kougyoku has been annoying you lately.” Having spent several seconds studying the inscriptions on his left hand, the empress threw up her head, looking up at him.

It was not exactly the topic for which he carelessly chatted with his soulmate in front of Al-Thamen to attract Gyokuen and pull her out of her fragrant lair, in which she always received guests and from which he had a head spin. But still a better beginning of conversation than clumsy thoughts about the weather.  
  
“Hm.” He said and yawned, feeling his right hand gradually get numb.  
  
It was more profitable to suffer a little now and assign a part of her rukh as a workout to make her possible future attempts to break his will again useless. As always.

“I really don’t understand why you chose someone like her as your king vessel.” Gyokuen continued.  
  
"Are you dissatisfied with her success?"  
  
“That's not the point...” The woman pursed her lips, and Judar understood. The seventh and eighth types of rukh simply can't get along.

"She is very talented in managing her djinn. I would say that the other princes should learn from her.” Judar began to list the good sides of his general, and with every word he said, Gyokuen looked more to the side. As a result, the magi began to feel like he was scolding a disobedient child. Having waved away from such an inappropriate association, he finished praising Kogoku. "Besides, it's good to have _at least one_ djinn in the empire with the same type of rukh as mine."  


At such times, he always remembered Valefor with a sigh. He would give much to get a djinn with the same _subtype_ of rukh as his.

“It would be very inconvenient if something happened to such a talented girl like her.” Gyokuen stared at him again with a smile, as if trying not to miss the slightest shadow of emotion on his face. "For example, if she _lost her arm_."  


Judd startled when he heard this phrase, and forced himself to calm down, although he could not immediately wipe the disgruntled expression off his face. It was foolish to succumb to provocation - it did not make sense to harm Kougyoku, she was necessary for further expansion.  
  
But a heap of memories from distant childhood, disturbed by Solomon's wisdom, made him swallow nervously.  
  
_Lost her hand_.

“But I think that you are no longer at the age when it makes sense to forbid communication with a soulmate.” She finally said, letting go of his hand.  
  
There was silence.  
  
"What?" The magi asked, not understanding it at all.

"In childhood, a soulmate can adversely affect the process of falling into depravity. But no matter how much you rebel now, no matter how often you meet them, you can't paint your rukh back to white." She said with a smile, that looked more like a smirk.  


For the first time in his life, Judar heard that the rukh could be painted back to white.  
  
“It’s useless.” He answered, and winced as he picked up the words. “It’s useless since I don’t want to do it.”

He was familiar with the techniques of forced Fall into depravity, but somehow he suspected that the reverse process was much more complicated. And required full commitment. And he did not have the slightest desire to lose the mercy of the black rukh.  


Gyokuen clearly liked his answer, judging by the fact that she no longer looked like a kooky concubine and returned to her usual cloyingly rotten expression.  
  
“I was always interested, Judar.” And then the magi just hoped that she would leave, leaving him alone with the fact that he _turns out to be allowed now_ to communicate with his soulmate. "What kind of girls do you like?"

For the second time in this short conversation, he froze, thinking he misheard it.  
  
"What's this about?" He asked irritably.  
  
"Gentle and open? Or maybe perky and funny? Well, share with me." Not answering his question, she offered a couple of options.

Judar looked down at her and was unable to read anything from her face or the movement of her rukh, so he raised his eyebrow inquiringly. What did she plan this time? Decided to bring it to the production of magi kiddies, to later put experiments on them and use it as a consumable material?  


“Impregnable.” He said before he had time to think about his answer.  
  
The image of Hakuryuu emerged before his eyes, who from the moment of his sister’s departure took it as a habit to ignore the magi and throw glances at him in anger. And Sinbad who looked at each meeting like he dreamed that the magi disappeared somewhere and turned his neck there.

"Impregnable?" The empress asked with interest.

“Well, yes.” He felt a little embarrassed because of the discussion of such topics with the person who has been pushing him toward the abyss of the Fall but answered nonetheless. "You know, those who are always dissatisfied with something."

“And what happens when they change anger to mercy? Will you lose interest in them?"

“I have no idea.” He said, lifting his eyes to heaven. He will definitely tell her how it will be if he ever succeeds in attracting Hakuryuu or Sinbad to his side. "If they have nothing to offer except for stubbornness, then yes, maybe."

"I see... That's interesting."

That wasn't interesting at all, he just wished, she would go away immediately. He felt that his soulmate, too stubborn to wait, began to write something on his hand, trying to draw his attention.

“Then I will leave you alone.” Gyokuen said, looking with open curiosity at the appearing inscriptions that he didn’t look at in order not to reveal his own interest.

Turning smoothly, she disappeared into the crowd of priests of the organization.

His persistent soulmate wrote the tenth " **hey** " already.

Judar moved back to the tree, leaning against it. He expected not quite this conversation. Once again, he admitted to himself that he had no idea what was going on in Gyokuen’s head and what it would all lead to.

_Lost her hand_.

A headache suddenly rolled in a wave, as then, in Balbadd. The small magi at that time capriciously climbed into his head, into his memories and carelessly, like a child who was given fragile porcelain tableware, did what he wanted, without paying attention to the damage caused.

Considering the way he looked at him, Aladdin might have intended to cause him as much pain as possible so that it would come again even months later.

He showed him the memories that Judar had once wanted to forget. He could not remember, if not for intervention. These memories, mixed in one indistinguishable stream, were not only about his native village.

_Lost her hand_.

Along with the pain, he began to feel a deaf anxiety. It was unprofitable for Gyokuen to harm Kougyoku, but not all actions of people in this world were committed logically.

Unable to bear it, he rushed to look for her.

He could only breathe out relieved when he found the princess in her chambers, under the strict supervision of Ka Kobun, whole and intact.

“Judar!” She exclaimed excitedly, and the magi immediately forced himself to stop frowning, instead of that clicking the girl on the nose.

She retreated a few steps, covering the injured face with sleeves, but then again approached him with sparkling eyes.

“Judar!” She began again. "You heard it? King Sinbad will soon arrive at Rakushou!"

"Why that?" With a hitch, the magi asked.

“They say that...” Kougyoku confusedly turned to her mentor, obviously with joy overlooking the official reason for the visit of the leader of the seven seas alliance.

“To move from negotiations through letters to a personal meeting with the emperor.” Ka Kobun suggested to her with an impenetrable expression on his face.

“Exactly, to move from negotiations through letters to a personal meeting with the emperor.” The princess repeated with an affirmative nod, re-staring at Judar with a radiant look.

The magi, unable to restrain himself, rolled his eyes. He was a little disturbed by her enthusiasm for the arrival of the womanizer of the seven seas. He could easily believe that the princess, who lived almost all her life in the palace, fell in love with the most enviable bachelor of the continent. Like thousands of other girls.

"Already a whole eternity has passed from Balbadd, and he decided it just now?"

Another questioning look at Ka Kobun, who followed the news in the world more diligently than they both combined.

“It’s impossible for a foreign king to simply enter the empire and get to meet the emperor, even if it is the king of Sindria himself.” He explained to them with a sigh.

Judar chuckled. He knew a couple of not at all peaceful ways to knock out an audience with the emperor. If Sinbad wanted, he would have achieved more.

"Judar, dear!" Kougyoku exclaimed again, as she saw his hand covered with two handwritings, and folded her hands on the chest from excitement. "You do answer him after all!"

So even the princess doubted that.

"May I write something to him?" She clasped her hands and asked, smiling from ear to ear.

How could he not prank her?

“No.” The magi said flatly. “I told him you died.”

"What?!"

Judar laughed.


	7. Chapter 7

Judar had no idea that the rukh could turn back to white — and he, as a magi, could not bear it when he didn’t know something about magic, magis or rukh. Any other areas of knowledge, whether politics or economics, were not of slightest interest for him, as he preferred to leave these more “mundane” questions to his candidates.

Thus, he went to the library of Al-Thamen, that was in that part of the palace, where only members of the organization had access to, and spent several days only to scroll through hundreds of books and select those that contained even a slightest mention of rukh. Taking a few dozen worthy of attention, he did not forget to strictly order Koumei to not even touch them.

He spent a few more days at his place, distracting from books only for sleep and food, forgetting even about that every now and then. In the end, Kougyoku pulled him out of the dim room into the fresh air, holding his hand like he was a disobedient child, and saying that she needed to keep an eye on him.

It turned out that she just needed a new person to bully. Judar could not find other words to name her endless monologues about Sinbad, about his untalented books, about his impeccable manners and incredible strength. The daily news that the king of Sindria had moored to the southern port of the empire, that he had passed one city or another or crossed one river or another, made the princess panic more and more.

Of course, the magi could try to destroy her naive dreams, telling her something of what he knew about this stupid king, but decided not to do it. Firstly, he was busy reading. Secondly, he knew that if he would, even for a moment, stop ignoring this nonsense, she would never back off.  
  
Thirdly, all what he knew about Sinbad, he did not want to share with anyone.

On that day, when the womanizer of the Seven Seas finally arrived at Rakushou and went to greet the current emperor, Judar realized that he absolutely had no need to worry about Kougyoku. She was not at all imposed on the king, as he had expected, but on the contrary, she ran away with each of his likely appearances, timidly looking from afar.

He was more concerned that Gyokuen took the habit to bring some unfamiliar girls to him every few days, smiling tenderly, and, without explaining anything, leave them alone, taking Kougyoku with her if she was near, pouring out her soul to him that Sinbad has not asked about her.

After several such meetings, during which the main themes were, of course, the recent hostilities of the empire, fashionable domestic animals and soulmates, Judar, dissatisfied with constant attention to messages from his soulmate, again returned to his heavy bracelets, only briefly removing them in the evening to write an answer. Conversations stretched slowly and awkwardly, lasting for a couple of days, as he had warned in advance that he would be very busy the next few weeks. To his surprise, this guy agreed with this even without much reluctance.

At some point, Judar thought that he would finally be able to get rid of the annoying moans of the eighth princess.

Sensing the approach of the familiar oscillations of the rukh, he shuddered, distracted from the book that laid before him on the ground, and turned around. Kougyoku, at this time under the strict supervision of Ka Kobun, was busy combing his hair. She tilted her head to the side in surprise and glanced over her shoulder, trying to figure out what he was looking at.

If she finally meets Sinbad and talks to him, maybe she will decide that he is a douche and stops this useless chatter?

He has to somehow distract her so that she would not have time to escape again before his arrival.

Turning so that he was facing her and drawing back her attention, Judar placed the book between them and pointed to the line he was reading.

"It is believed that white rukh is the embodiment of human thoughts, but this connection is not one-way. Just as people act on the rukh around them, the will, encased in rukh, influences their decisions." He read out, looking up at Kougyoku every now and then to make sure she listened carefully. "What do you think about it, being a royal vessel?"

“What do I think...” The girl repeated in bewilderment and turned the book around to read the sentence.

Behind her, who was leaning thoughtfully over an ancient book, he clearly saw Sinbad with his two generals passing by. Suddenly this whole idea didn't seem too good.

Judar glanced at Ka Kobun, who had also noticed the king, and they nodded to each other in agreement, deciding to end this nightmare.

Kougyoku, who was clumsily talking about the obvious and secret meanings of the phrase, reacted too late and turned around only when the steps of Sinbad and his companions could be heard. Then she turned back and stared at the magi with a look that clearly said "Traitor!".

With a shrug, Judar returned to his book, watching the scene unfolding in front of him out of the corner of eye.  


"I am very happy to see you again, princess!" Actively gesticulating in his usual manner, Sinbad greeted the girl.

"Thank you very much for the last time! I am also glad to meet you.” Kougyoku answered and took a few steps towards him, and that was an incredible effort for her, noticeable on her tense back, as she was hiding her embarrassment and awkwardness under an assumed smile.

Feeling the sudden flashes of rukh behind him, the magi turned around to see a dozen maidservants zealously pretending to be busy and staring towards the foreign king and his generals.

Judar could gamble on the fact that Sinbad, since his arrival, managed to sleep with at least a couple of them.

“Judar.” He said, not bothering himself with polite phrases.

The magi turned back, threw a quick glance at the king, and returned all his attention back to the book, turning over the page, as if putting an end to his participation in this conversation.

He didn't want to even see him right now.

“Judar!” Kougyoku exclaimed, frowning at him. "Please forgive him, our oracle is very rude."

Sinbad laughed. Apparently, for him the words “Judar” and “forgiveness” did not get along very well in one sentence.

“Yes, at first it was annoying, but then I got used to it.” He told the princess confidentially, and she immediately started nodding.

“It sounds like you have known each other for some time.” She suggested, covering her smile.

Sinbad cast another glance at the magi and nodded affirmatively.

“I see, and I never even heard about it.” The princess laughed unkindly, and Judar frowned. He always had immortal excuses “You didn’t ask” and “That's none of your business.”

A very nerve-wracking conversation rolled on smoothly, while the magi, along with the bored generals, princess' servants, and maidservants assiduously assisting in idleness, played the role of background. The conversation could not fail to mention the wonderful weather - damn it - the king's negotiations with the emperor, which caused a tiny but unpleasant pause, and, of course, soulmates.

He could even understand if Kougyoku, who was romantically interested in the king, would begin to discuss this hackneyed topic, trying to find out in this way whether she has a love rival. But no, Sinbad was the one who started talking about that, and he even began, shining with delight, to demonstrate his wrists all full of ink.

Kougyoku, hiding her face behind her sleeves again, laughed politely with an unnatural smile. The magi was even a little bit afraid to assume what she could have read there. Anything could be expected from Sinbad.

“Judar, come and look too.” The princess said with pressure.

Of course, he ignored her.

“Judar.” She repeated softly, apparently not daring to raise her voice in the presence of a foreign guest.

After waiting a few seconds and making sure that her magi was not going to obey, Kougyoku quickly reduced the distance between them and without any last warning, that would be useless anyway, grabbed his ear with a gesture obviously taken from the eldest brother and with a strange expression on her face tried to make him rise.

Judar, who was not expecting such treatment, instinctively reacted to the sharp pain and put the borg, that burned the princess' fingers and forced her to withdraw her hand. Ka Kobun immediately moved up to her, but Sinbad was ahead of him, and he could not pass a girl in need without helping her. Ignoring the warning cough of one of his generals, he walked over to the princess and familiarly grabbed her hand to get a closer look, forcing her to turn deep red.

Surprised by the incident no less than any other person present, the magi looked warily at the couple, feeling how everyone was staring at him.

What made Kougyoku behave so strange? Judar turned his gaze to the king's wrists. Now that Sinbad was standing closer, he could easily make out the words.

Recognize his own sloppy handwriting.

Resurrect in memory yesterday’s dialogue, seen on bare skin.

Feel the burning of ink under his tight bracelets.

“The minor burns from a borg were one of those things that I also had to get used to.” Sinbad said  conciliatory, and when the princess murmured that she was fine, he finally let her go.

Judar's gaze followed with fascination his hands, which the king crossed on his chest, looking at the magi with slight disapproval. When their eyes met, Judar flinched and, without thinking twice, looked hastily at the ground.

After a dozen seconds, poisoned by suppressing silence, he silently slammed the book, grabbed it more firmly, stood up and walked away with long strides, almost running off the scene and, as usual, ignoring Kougyoku's exclamations.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh Kougyoku, you story mover. The chapter was like: huh? Sinbad has to appear in a Sinju fic, really? But it's only chapter 7, you know, isn't it too early? xD


	8. Chapter 8

Judar walked away a decent distance and then looked around, running his hand through his hair. Fleeing carelessly, he went even farther from his chambers, almost reaching the edge of the palace, from where he was able to go directly to the bustling streets of Rakushou.

He thoughtfully weighed the thick book in his hand, finally turned around and saw Kougyoku, who had been chasing him all this time, miraculously not stumbling over her clothes. She was a little irritated but mostly terribly agitated.

The servants, who saw this couple, bypassed them from afar, not wanting to make trouble for themselves.

“Judar! Judar!" The princess approached him clearly not being able to find the right words. She squeezed her palms into fists excitedly, forcing the magi to look at them anxiously, worrying that she might struck him from the excess of feelings. "Sinbad!"

 “Yeah.” He replied after a short pause, shrugging his shoulders awkwardly. "Sinbad."

His eyes darted to the borg-burned tips of her fingers. Noticing this, Kougyoku shook her hands reassuringly:

"I did not even notice such a trifle!"

The magi could not help it and snorted.

"Like I would choose someone as a candidate, who would have yelled at such a that."

The princess nodded knowingly, remembering the small talks of her older half-sisters about how it's necessary to move as little as possible so as not to accidentally hit themselves and earn even the tiniest bruise. But the previous topic interested her, of course, much more.

“You didn't know, did you?” There's no way you wouldn't have told me, right? Although..." She suspiciously frowned, recalling that Judar was a master in silence about the relationship with the king of Sindria.

“I didn't know anything.” He rejected this stupid thought as if someone could have known that his soulmate was the very head of the seven seas alliance and ignore him.

But judging by the Sinbad's reaction, he really did not suspect that he was associated with Judar. Otherwise, the magi could come up with several situations that would have gone some other way.

"Sinbad, become my candidate!" - "Yes, my precious soulmate, of course!"

Or instead of the usual wary look, which sparked with hatred, a free gift attached to their every meeting, intentional or accidental, something... different.

“This is Sinbad...” He muttered with a sigh, painfully squeezing the book.

If it were someone else, anyone else, he would simply laugh at the unfortunateness of this person. With Sinbad however, everything was completely different. Mostly because with Sinbad nothing ever developed favorably.  
  
But the bond of soulmates was unbreakable.  
  
Of course only if Sinbad won't kill him, having learned about it

“So are you going to tell him?” The princess sustained a sympathetic pause and asked, obviously having sent all her servants away, since they had not yet appeared.

Judar nodded.

Kougyoku breathed a sigh of relief, apparently perfectly aware that she would not have been able to hide such a secret.

“But not here.” He said. "And not now."

Even to his ears, it sounded like craven conditions, but he really couldn't do anything when _she_ was around.

The first reason why he was interested in Sinbad was that he was the first to Judar's recollection to survive a direct clash with Al-Thamen. It was an achievement that even the magi did not threaten on his own.

It was disappointing that Judar was sure that even if he had miraculously managed to raise all his imperial candidates against Gyokuen, they would still lose.

"I will pay him a visit to Sindria."

From the Kougyoku's glittering eyes, he realized that she would never miss such an event. Knowing her perseverance, he could well assume that the princess would not mind approaching her beloved through the magi.  
  
"In the meantime, I'll go to Balbadd with Koumei."  
  
The sympathetic and perplexed gaze of the princess pointed out to him that there were evidently flaws in his plan.  
  
“Koumei has been gone for three days, Judar.” She told him.

The magi turned his gaze to the book he held in his hand, which distracted him so much from reality. As a result, he did not find any records of reverse coloring of rukh to white. Not surprisingly, considering that he was looking exclusively in the books written by members of Al-Thamen.  
  
He shoved the useless book to Kougyoku to keep her busy.

"Then I'm leaving right now. Surely I can still catch up with him. Give it back to Gyokuen and tell her that I’ve gotten the hell away from her.” Judar gave the instructions and went back along the path he had taken, heading to his chambers to pick up the flying carpet.

From shock, Kougyoku froze for a couple of seconds.  
  
"What? Are you just leaving like that?"  
  
Judar waved goodbye to her. He had no time to explain that he is a terrible actor and that in the presence of the King of Sindria, He would only last a couple of minutes with indifferent face, which would be immediately replaced by a silly smile from ear to ear, already stubbornly destroying his wall of nervousness.  
  
In front of Sinbad, he will just start to glow with happiness.

***

Judar naively believed that after some time his concern about the king’s reaction — he would kill him as soon as he knew, surely would — will settle and let him sleep peacefully, but the miracle did not happen. He could not stop guessing, and, based on Sinbad’s scornfully-mockingly-wary attitude towards him, the only attitude known to him, any assumptions turned out to be deplorable.  
  
At such a time, he began to miss Kougyoku's chatter, which managed to interfere with any activity. Judar spent most of his time with Kouen, who was almost always silent and often glanced at him, and that did not help very much.  
  
Every day, his determination to simply go to Sindria and say everything to its king melted away more and more. He wanted some definite sign that his soulmate was not in the mood to decapitate his enemies.

One day, comfortably seated behind the Balbadd throne, Judar lazily leafed through the fresh part of the adventures of the stupid king, running his eyes across every other line. Suddenly, waves of energy from the subdued dungeon trembled through his body, causing him to jump to his feet, thereby frightening the representatives of local residents, who had been begging for something from their new ruler for almost half an hour.

"What happened?" After a short pause, during which Judar silently looked in the direction from which echoes came, Kouen asked.  
  
“Someone conquered the dungeon in the south...” The magi replied with a hitch. In this direction, Sindria was the only civilized country.  
  
“You don’t have to worry about it, honorable oracle.” A member of Al-Thamen immediately joined the conversation. He has been observing Kouen’s actions and informing the organization about them. "We have already sent metal vessels to take care of them."  
  
So Al-Thamen could not obtain the djinn.  
  
The inhabitants of Balbadd were awkwardly frozen in their knees.  
  
“I'm bored.” Judar declared though he was shaking with impatience.  
  
Waving his hand in farewell, he immediately left the throne room, moving in the direction of Sindria.

***

Judar was even almost surprised that the barrier of Sindria was so easy to break. He heard serenades in honor of its creator, elevating her to unattainable heights. But still, he shouldn’t compare an ordinary wizard, whose duties were to protect the country only from a couple of sea monsters, with a magi.

As soon as he landed on the Palace Square, the entire guard set up their useless spears against him. Another fact that always surprised Judar - why was this guard in the era of djinn and magic needed at all? To give the locals a sense of security?  
  
He looked around, hoping to see Sinbad.  
  
Excitement, curled in a tight tangle, stuck in his lungs, giving way to chest pain and making it difficult to breathe.

"What happened? All of you have such scary faces.” He noted with a smirk, intending to calmly wait until the king finally steps away from his important affairs and comes to meet him.  
  
As it turned out, it was not exactly what Ja'far was counting on. Muttering something under his breath, the general rushed to the attack. Judar had long ago decided that the freckled ones had a general stock of intelligence and ingenuity and apparently Koumei had it all.  
  
The magi didn’t even have to strain himself to throw some Household Vessel owner into the wall.

When the former assassin, surrounded by wounded guards, spat blood and stared at him with an even scarier look, Judar concluded that the mission “Do not anger Sinbad more than necessary” was officially failed.  
  
"Stop, Ja'far!" The voice of the king sounded at the very moment when the general decided on the next attack. The magi, who was smiling pleasantly and mentally cursing that face covered with freckles, who preferred to kill first and then think, waved a hand in greeting. “Why are you here, Judar?”

Okay, this means that this is a new Sindrian custom - go straight to the point without even greeting. Judar, at the moment, referred himself more to the Kougyoku faction, preferring to warm up with topics like the weather.  
  
"Do you know that the old men from the organization went to fight with the mini-magi?" He asked, squeezing his wand harder to suppress a shiver in his fingers.

For a few seconds, they silently looked into each other’s eyes. The black magi only hoped that his face did not say "I am your damn soulmate." Sinbad always surprised him with his inappropriate insight.  
  
"Everything is settled. The eight generals defended them." He answered in a serious tone.  
  
So, while he was getting to Sindria, those weaklings managed to lose. Judar sniffed.

"As I thought. These fake metal vessels are nothing..." The magi began his arrogant phrase, but then he was interrupted by a terrible roar, which Kougyoku issued, who was wearing the full djinn equipment. She landed from the sky, leaving an impressive dent on the ground.  
  
Did she use the power of her djinn only to quickly get to the scene?..

"Judar, dear!" She exclaimed excitedly, getting rid of the equipment, and rushed to him, drawing — damn her — a small ink-pot.  
  
Serious belligerent mood clearly flew down the drain. Even the guards lowered their weapons a little so as not to injure the princess.  
  
The princess, who, having delivered her gift, with eyes shining with delight, stepped aside so that she could clearly see both Judar and Sinbad.

The magi stared at the inkpot in his hands and could feel the bewilderment floating in the air. Those who have not met their soulmate in person were probably anxiously alerted.  
  
“I’m sure you are all wondering now what a rare loser is hiding in your close-knit ranks.” Judar quipped, throwing the ink into the air so everyone could see it. "So I will not delay it."

He caught the wand more comfortably, opened the inkwell and dipped his finger into the liquid with a pungent smell. Without thinking twice, the magi brought out three lines on each of the cheeks, parodying the cat that made him write for the very first time, looking at the wall behind Sinbad.  
  
He slowly raised his hand to his face.

Prevailing grave silence was interrupted by the shocked mutterings of soldiers, who looked at each other and searched for his soulmate, until one of them, groaning loudly, pointed to his king.  
  
Carefully circling one eye and carelessly leaving a spot on the tip of the nose, Judar turned his eyes to Sinbad, who was frozen with a hand in front of his face and staring at him.

After making sure that the ink was fully manifested on his soulmate, he removed it from his face with magic and, not finding the strength to pour them back into the inkwell, let it fall to the ground with sharp black spots on the white stone.  
  
So probably looked from the aerial view his black rukh in this crystal white kingdom.

After waiting a little more, Judar again glanced at Sinbad. The man was able to lower his hand, and even that, it seemed, with the help of Ja'far, who approached him with anxiety.  
  
He was sure that Kougyoku looked at what was happening with hope, clasping her hands in front of her in a lock, so he did not even look at her.  
  
Perhaps the result is not so bad. Sinbad has known for several minutes, but for now, he, the magi, is safe and sound. Or it's just the calm before the storm.

After waiting for another significant pause - never before in his life, time was stretching so painfully slowly - Judar, who from the excitement was still being unable to calmly breathe, felt nausea coming up from the taste of blood from his stung cheek and understood, that he couldn't stay still and wait for the reaction from the petrified king.

They always had an unbreakable bond for them two, better than any magical invention.

Judar severed eye contact with Sinbad awkwardly buried his fingers in his hair and turned around, intending to silently return to Balbadd and wait there for the king's reaction, whatever it will be.  
  
These movements, as it turned out, brought the king back to consciousness, making him flinch and move forward. The magi froze, waiting for his possible further action, watching from the corner of his eye.  
  
“Capture him.” A quiet order followed.

Judar thought he had misheard. _Capture him_? No pleasant conversation began with such a phrase. From his recollections of the Kou Empire, such words could only be followed by a prolonged imprisonment and a sophisticated execution for the amusement of the crowd.  
  
“Wh-Wha...” He began and was interrupted by the same words, that Sinbad said this time louder and more decisively.

Hearing the order a second time, the guards, who had hesitated before, moved forward, raising their spears again. Judar felt that he had changed places with the king. Now he was helplessly and perplexedly searching for the gaze of his soulmate, in order to understand what was going on here and what he was thinking about.  
  
Sinbad's eyes were cold and calm, and so the magi decided that the king was furious. Nothing bad, he’s just going to leave quickly now - ordinary people are not a hindrance to him - Sinbad will cool down, think, change his mind ...  
  
A deafening whistle from somewhere above made him throw up his head. Too slow, he was completely unprepared for a battle.

The tiny Sindrian general, who was riding on some kind of winged creature, used her flute - the vessel of Zepar, Judar realized with a delay - to attack him.  
  
His borg from her side got a grid of cracks. Immediately the wizard's defense was attacked by the second general, who braided it with his vessel, firing Baal's lightning at him and complementing the damage received.  
  
Had he been an ordinary wizard, his Borg would have scattered into pieces long ago.  
  
With difficulty looking away from Sinbad, Judar decided to deal with the problems in turn.

He abruptly reduced the volume of his defense in order to reduce the energy costs of maintaining it and grabbed the rope of the Ja'far's vessel with his bare hands, nullifying the lightning with his magic. He could praise himself for endless coaching of the fourth type, which fortunately was much easier to him than the eighth one. Third-rate artifacts, which for the action first needed to receive energy from the carrier of the djinn's vessel, which had to take it from the djinn itself, could not confront a magi in a magic competition.  
  
Grabbing stronger the vessel of the freckled adviser, Judar sent his favorite magic through it, watching with pleasure as the thick crust of ice spread quickly along the rope.  
  
From somewhere, there came a cry of pain and the shackles on his borg slept.

The magi watched, pursing his lips, as his punched defense was slowly recovering in those places where the generals' attacks intersected and allowed himself for a moment to think about why Sinbad himself had not yet rushed at him with the sword.  
  
Dealing with Pisti, who was clearly not suitable for a battle, was even easier. Especially he distracts, throwing an inkwell and strengthening it with magic so that it flew right into her face.

Aside from him, Kougyoku shouted something, but her voice was barely heard behind the frantic chirping of rukh, agitated by the use of djinn and magic. Throwing a short glance along the way, making sure that the attack on the magi of the Kou empire did not lead to the attack on the princess of Kou the empire, Judar shot into the air like an arrow, intending to leave Sindria through the same fracture in the barrier.

After a moment, having reached the huge bell, about that there was some ancient and noble legend well-known on the mainland, which he just forgot, the magi slowed down a bit to get rid of light dizziness and darkness before his eyes. Feeling the strong vibrations of the rukh at about the same height, without hesitation he threw all the borg energy to the side from which the attack would have been expected, leaving only a thin layer on the other side, which would have get broken even from the usual attack of a guard.  
  
Sensing earlier than seeing the winding cracks disperse along the borg that had just returned to normal, Judar confusedly stared at Sinbad, who again carried the Baal sword over his head, going to destroy the magi's defense with the second blow.

He raised his wand, thinking that for once in a while he was not the first to start a fight - if not counting the barrier, but otherwise he couldn’t get here - he was not the first, even twice, and removed it, continuing to levitate easily at the same place.  
  
“Sinbad...” He began, satisfied that the king froze, not taking his eyes off him, and fell silent, distracted by the fact that his defense was again struck, this time from behind.  
  
Judar had already lost count of how many times it had already happened today.

The king of Sindria extended his free hand to him, but he came across an obstacle in the form of the borg, that was still holding on to his side. Before the magic managed to do something, Kougyoku, in full equipment, rushed to him and, without slowing down, grabbed, dragging him further, barely managing to slow down on the platform of the bell tower and almost crashing into the bell.  
  
At least someone tried to grab him and not decided to break his borg. Well, if this wouldn't be one of his candidates, such an attempt would have ended extremely painfully.  
  
Feeling the heat spreading through the body, Judar leaned heavily on his princess’s shoulder, who with a warlike look was standing with her back to him, and clutched his side, fascinated by the heavy drops of blood falling to the ground.  
  
“The healing magic is far from my specialization.” He hoarsely laughed, startling Kougyoku, and took a deep breath, closing his eyes and leaning more and more on her.  
  
The rukh, that gathered beside his palm on the wound, began to glow purple, causing sharp flashes of pain.  
  
The last thing Judar remembered was that someone did not stop trying to break through his borg.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look who finally got to Sindria (^◔ᴥ◔^)  
> Actually there is an extra about what happened right after Judar lost consciousness, from Sinbad's point of view, but... That's chapter 25, you'll have to wait a little bit for that xD


	9. Chapter 9

A blast, probably caused by a wizard of the first type rukh, made Judar rise abruptly, clutching the sheets in his hands. From a sharp wave of pain, he bent over, clutching his side.  
  
Fortunately, the wound was no longer bleeding and has almost completely healed.

After a few ragged sighs, he again heard the deafening sound that had awakened him, turned out to be nothing more than a banal ringing of a bell, which he felt in his chest. Judar blinked several times, getting rid of the darkness in his eyes, and looked around, trying not to flinch at each next strike.

Just when he thought it would be worth counting them in order to orient in time, the bell fell silent.  
  
Wonderful.

The whole way to Sindria his shoulders were mercilessly burned by the sun, but now only the crescent moon was shining in the sky, supported by a carelessly scattered handful of stars and unsuccessfully trying to illuminate the room where he was.

A forgotten candle next to his bed was burning, and dark shadows were scattered along the walls. The _unfamiliar_ walls with _unfamiliar_ decorations.

Feeling the unpleasant tangle in his stomach twist more strongly, Judar swallowed nervously.  
  
Throughout the room, he was familiar only with his wand lying next to him on the bedside table, which he immediately grabbed, and Kougyoku, who quietly sniffed on the chair not far away and was not disturbed at all by the sound of the bell.

The magi exhaled slowly, relaxing his tense shoulders. Rising, he looked out the window, trying to figure out where he was.

He estimated that his room was at the height, to fall from which without magic would have threatened death, and began to look at the area spread out before him, surrounded on all sides by buildings of the most varied form. Some of them seemed familiar to him. For example, that bell tower where he lost consciousness.

Judar froze, not taking his eyes off the multitude of lights lit in the square, and the crowd of people there, who seemed tiny from such a distance.  
  
Of all places, not this country, not Sindria!  
  
The window gave way to him with a terrible squeak, allowing the barely audible noise of the crowd to enter the room.  
  
He did not even want to think about what they were celebrating.

“Judar, dear?..” Kougyoku asked sleepily, and she was looking by her usual standards just awful. From sleep in an uncomfortable position, her clothes got wrinkled, her hair got disheveled, and her makeup got smeared.

“Here I am.” He said hoarsely, a little horrified that he was still in the kingdom of Sinbad.  
  
The magi rather guessed than saw in such poor lighting that the princess smiled warmly and, without getting up from her chair, stretched out, raising her hands up.  
  
“I was going to stay awake.” She said shamefully, clutching her palms in fists.

Judar snorted. They both knew very well how tiring the re-use of the djinn’s full equipment in such a short amount of time had been. She would have spent significantly less energy if she simply continued to maintain the first equipment.

Who could have known that her strength would be needed again.  
  
“We are still in Sindria.” He casually pointed out.  
  
Kougyoku slouched, acknowledging her defeat.  
  
"I demanded a ship to Balbadd, but I was persuaded to stay."  
  
Well, Sinbad was good at persuading girls.  
  
“Sorry, I had to insist on my demand.” The princess said with sincere repentance in her voice.

She sounded like she was on the verge of tears. Even Judar felt a prick of guilt.  
  
"Well, just forget it." He said in all sincerity. Now he could, if he wished, simply escape in secret, without attracting too much attention.

Sinbad knew for at least a few hours, and the head of the magi was still on his shoulders. The victory had to be achieved in small steps.  
  
For some reason, Judar felt that his standards towards his soulmate were rather low.

Kougyoku fell silent for a while, awkwardly straightening her clothes and hair. The magi took a cue from her, starting to unravel his long braid. The princess threw up her head and stared at him.  
  
"How do you feel?" She asked.  
  
"Not bad."

He really didn’t feel the worst way. His side ached a bit, his body was shackled by fatigue, and his hair around his back was stained from spilled blood, but in general, he felt good.

He collected some water with magic, washed his hair as good as he could and without thinking twice threw out the resulting dirty ball, which immediately lost its shape. He squeezed his hair, somehow dried them with the sheets, which he was covered with, listening to sensations in his body.  
  
One thing still bothered him. A thing that, by his standards, should have long ceased to worry him.  
  
“For some reason, it’s hard to breathe.” He said, puzzled, clutching at the fabric in the chest area.

Even in the darkness, he could surprisingly see the clothes with the ornament of Sindria and stared at his prude-general with suspicion.  
  
She waved her hands, intending to justify herself, but there was a knock at the door, under which a dim band of light was visible.

They both froze in place, staring in the same direction, and then exchanged glances.  
  
“Come in.” Raising her voice, the princess allowed after a short pause.  
  
Opening the door with a confident movement, Sinbad appeared on the threshold, holding in his hand a lighted lamp, which with its bright light made Judar and Kougyoku close their eyes, they had been in the half-light for too long.

The magi realized that he was really tired since he did not pay attention to the chirping of the rukh that accompanied the king.  
  
“Good evening.” The newcomer greeted, glancing around the room, stopping his gaze at the end at Judar.

He responded with an inarticulate, affirmative sound, echoing Kougyoku's polite reply, and turned away, staring at his hands. Okay, evening. How long did he sleep? Half a day, a day and a half, two and a half days?  
  
It felt like he did not sleep, but again and again, ran a hundred meters dash. And lost every time.

The approaching sound of footsteps made him tense up slightly, squeezing his wand. But by the sound of the blow, he turned his head in surprise to see Sinbad, who crashed into his borg at full speed, retreat a step backward, rubbing his nose with a slightly dissatisfied expression.

Noticing that Judar was looking directly at him, the king of Sindria, smiling, made a second attempt to approach, also unsuccessful. On this, he temporarily surrendered, much to the relief of the magi.

“How did you know that Judar woke up?” The princess asked cautiously, hiding behind her sleeves.

Yes, that Judar himself was also interested in this question.

"That's very simple. I came here every hour" Sinbad honestly answered, not at all embarrassed by this fact. "And this time I heard your voices."  
  
In this situation, the magi would rather have wished for the king not to go by himself, but to send servants, after whose departure he would still manage to escape.  
  
It seemed that he still has not woken up properly since his only way out of any situation was to escape.  
  
Kougyoku squirmed awkwardly.

"How do you feel?" Sinbad asked, and in all this time he looked away from his soulmate only to answer the princess.  
  
Judar shrugged, hoping he heard this question for the last time today.  
  
“I'm starving.” He decided to answer this time.

"I'll go bring something!" Kougyoku jumped up from her seat and, bypassing Sinbad, rushed to the door.  
  
The magi, who had no time to say anything, stared in amazement after her. For some reason, he hoped that she would be next to him, wouldn't leave him alone with _Sinbad_ , that it won't be she of his two visitors, who will go to get food.  
  
The king of Sindria, apparently, brainwashed her with his conversations and persuasion rather well.

The door slammed shut way too loud, and Judar again stared in front of himself, not finding the strength to desire to talk with Sinbad. Taking a deep breath, he returned his palm back to his side, taking up the same thing he did before losing consciousness - treating his wound.

Ka Kobun, of course, was able to patch him up, but it's hard to treat an unconscious patient who isn't able to tell where it hurts. The servant of the princess, who hadn't trained to be a full-fledged doctor, could only provide first aid.

Or was it any other sindrian doctor?..

A soft violet light flooded in the room, and Judar nodded sleepily, watching Sinbad standing in the middle of the room in the corner of his eye. The man was fortunately also not in the mood to talk.

Judar frowned at the pain from the healing, and flinched in the surprise, feeling a light touch on his borg. He forced himself not to turn.  
  
Making sure that in case of ordinary touches the protection only prevents further progress without causing pain, Sinbad knocked on it with his knuckles to test.

Judar could guess that the head of the Alliance of the Seven Seas was not too often so close to a borg. His home-grown sorceress hardly raised it against her king.  
  
One of the many advantages of healing magic was that it could relieve fatigue, and the magic did not fail to take advantage of that.

Still a little uncertain, Sinbad touched the borg with his fingertips and, emboldened, put his whole hand, forcing Judar to press his lips.  
  
“Stop pawing my borg.” He snorted, finishing the treatment, and began to stretch his sore shoulder.

The king froze for a moment and put the hand behind his back.  
  
"Can you feel the touch?" He asked with obvious interest.  
  
“Sort of.” Judar replied, curtly.  
  
Sinbad nodded with a thoughtful look and turned around when there was a knock at the door and Kougyoku came inside.  
  
Kougyoku who was empty-handed.

“I thought that maybe...” The princess shrugged, blushing noticeably, the magi noticed. “Judar should also to the feast?..”  
  
“Good idea.” Sinbad nodded approvingly. "I thought about it too."  
  
It seemed like Judar was the only one in this room who wasn't delighted by the thought that he would have to get up and go somewhere.

“I don't want to.” He rejected the proposal uncompromisingly.  
  
Sinbad did not move from this, while Kougyoku approached him.  
  
“This is after all the celebration in honor of the dungeon capturers.” She began in some deliberately tempting tone. "Especially in honor of Hakuryuu, who has got his djinn."  
  
Judar could not help but feel curious.

“Hakuryuu has got a djinn?..” He asked, catching Sinbad’s attentive gaze.  
  
She nodded, staring at him with a look of anticipation of victory.  
  
What was this djinn? What type? Name, appearance, character, ability?  
  
Judar interrupted his mental flow of questions, coughing into his fist. He really haven't seen that crybaby for ages.  


“Okay, I'll go.” He said, trying to pretend it was reluctant and failing miserably.


	10. Chapter 10

Judar estimated how long it would take to weave a new braid out of matted hair, sighed and tied it up in a long ponytail. So his hair will be stepped on, perhaps, twice less. He examined his clothes and did not find a single pocket in which he could put his wand. Inconceivable sindrian fashion.

He will have something to answer if someone asks him why he looks so belligerent and does not let go of his wand even for a second.

He walked past the door to Sinbad, barely refraining from chuckling, noticing how he tensed up slightly, waiting for the borg to strike as he approached. For the first time that night, he carefully examined his soulmate and saw that his face still had the cat painted by him, which completely destroyed the serious atmosphere

Mood jumped up, rushing like a spurred horse.

Pitch darkness reigned in the corridor and Judar stared at the princess suspiciously. Did she left at all, or, realizing that she did not even take a candle, she just stood at the door, trying to gain the courage to come back? Something told him that the latter was more likely.

Sinbad closed the door behind him and set off in the right direction with a calm step. Kougyoku and Judar, who was hustling from the cold biting his bare feet, followed him side by side.

“We are in the tower of the Purple Lion.” The king of Sindria explained in a low voice. "The highest ranks of the kingdom live here with their families. The guests live in the tower of the Green Archer..."

The magi honestly tried to listen to Sinbad’s explanations, but almost immediately got bored, sincerely not understanding why he should know the difference in who used the two training grounds or what duties to the kingdom foreign ambassadors had, who were allowed to live in the palace.

“Sinbad.” He said with a hint of serious tone, his hands behind his head. "We need to talk."

It was hardly just his imagination that the king tensed slightly at these words, but his tone was just as smooth:

"Yes."

Taking advantage of the fact that the man was leading the way and couldn't see his wide smile, Judar tilt his head and reinterpreted his suggestion:

"Sinbad, we need to discuss something."

Kougyoku, who remained silent, looked at him in surprise, and the king, without slowing down, threw an uncomprehending glance over his shoulder.

“I can’t help but assume that you have lived in this middle of nowhere for too long and therefore forgot that normal people start a conversation like this.” Judar said, waving his wand wryly, unable to keep a serious expression on his face. “Not “Grab him”, you know."

To this remark, Sinbad already noticeably shrugged his shoulders and, slouching tiredly, embarrassedly raised his hand to the face.

“I know.” He said after a short pause. "I'm sorry."

Kougyoku, who did not have even the slightest desire to be present at such a personal, in her opinion, moment, stared at the wall with fake interest. If she hadn't been afraid of getting lost in the darkness, she would have tried to get a little bit behind them.

“I guess it makes us even.” Judar decided carelessly, driving away the craven desire to apologize too, not even realizing for what.

Once again straightening his shoulders, Sinbad said with a chuckle:

“It seemed to me that you attacked me a couple more times.”

The magi's smile became a bit tense from the surging gloomy memories of the destruction of the first Sindria. It was worth saving indifference for judgmental and hating glances that are waiting for him at the fiest.

“Because you can't just take and conquer other people's dungeons.” He said reproachfully, recalling the series of the most dreary days spent searching for a place rich in rukh, suitable for calling a dungeon. Wasted because of someone's impossible impudence.

“Well, excuse me, your name was not written on them.” Sinbad answered cheerfully.

“That is why I do not like the people, who conquer the dungeons without a magi, they don’t even know the elementary rules.” Judar reproved, rolling his eyes playfully.

The magi clenched his teeth with force, swallowing loudly, trying to not let the usual words "Be my candidate, Sinbad!" leave his lips. An awkward pause formed and threatened to escalate into awkward silence until they arrived on the feast.

Judar didn’t want to have any contact with the Sindrians at all, and he was even ready to go after Sinbad next to Kougyoku for eternity, who allowed him to calm down a bit, even though she was just being silent.

“So...” He continued with a heavy heart. “What did you two talk about while I was blacked out?”

Suddenly embroiled in conversation, the princess looked at him with horror in her eyes.

“I asked whether she was the one who contacted me.” After a moment of silence, Sinbad took the initiative. "Having learned that this is the case, I thanked her.

Not too impressed with the answer, Judar chuckled.

"What else?" Without losing his impudence, he asked, going down the next ladder after the king and finally leaving to the fresh air.

Joyful hubbub struck the ears, forcing the magi to nervously bite his lips. His breathing became even harder and he coughed, trying to take a breath.

Outside the tower, Ka Kobun stood with a flock of maidservants and princess guards, whose names Judar could not recall at any cost. Kougyoku happily rushed to them, freeing herself from having to maintain a little unpleasant conversation. Almost immediately, she said goodbye, referring to her great fatigue.

“I asked her whether she knows why you never answered me.” Sinbad said evenly, opening the lamp door and blowing fire. Placing it on the ground near the entrance to the tower, he turned to Judar. “Since the princess could not answer, this question still interests me.”

The magi gave himself time to reflect on the answer, absently watching Ka Kobun cackle over Kougyoku. His left hand unconsciously darted to his right, drawing the king’s attention, when he, laughing a little nervously, said:

"Let's just say Al-Thamen is really good at convincing people."

Sinbad gave him his usual serious face, and Judar, unable to restrain himself, burst out laughing. Both the conversation and the atmosphere were serious, and that fact just made the whole situation even funnier for him.

"What's wrong?" The king asked with displeasure, and the magi only briefly depicted the cat ears above his head with his fingers.

The incomparable head of the seven seas alliance, the owner of seven djinns, who was standing before him right now, could rant about any terribly important and therefore terribly boring topic, but Judar, the moment he saw this crookedly painted cat face, could barely restrain laughter and did not feel an ounce of guilt.

"I see, you think that's funny?" Demonstratively folding his arms across the chest, Sinbad clarified with a reproachful tone, not being able to hide a smile. "And today I had to go through the whole city to the port to meet the kids from the dungeon."

“And it serves you right, stupid king.” The magi wanted to say, but he turned his gaze to his interlocutor and started shaking again, silently laughing.

Kougyoku would have told him if Sinbad took revenge on him with some dog face, right?  
  
Wiping tears from laughter, Judar moved on to the noisy square next to the king.

The fiest in Sindria was like any other fiest, noisy, riotous and bright, nothing so unusual that the magi did not witness during his travels. Grabbing a skewer with some meat from one of the tables, Judar stopped and looked around, searching for Hakuryuu. Sinbad who, to his great relief, decided to keep calm about pride in his country and not load him with information about the feasts and the dishes served there, stood next to him. Either with a nod, or a smile or with a wave of his hand, he welcomed his citizens, who raised glasses for him.

This was not too similar to other countries, where, at the sight of the ruler, the commoners deeply bowed or even threw themselves onto the ground. But more than that the magi was surprised by the fact that he was not noticed. At least no one threw eloquent glances in his direction, no one pointed with a finger and no one held children closer to them, as usual. Perhaps it was because he, in his Sindrian clothes, merged with the crowd, and also did not float in the air, towering over frightened people.

Finding Hakuryuu from the air would be much easier than from the ground. Having no idea where to look for the imperial prince, Judar awkwardly stiffened, wondering whether to use magic to search.

“There they are." Pointing in the right direction, where Judar didn’t see anything behind the crowd, Sinbad said and confidently moved forward, moving away too drunk people if necessary.

The magi hurried after him, since he had already managed to notice that the people had only parted in front of their king, and everyone else had to make their way through with force or dexterity.

"Uncle Sinbad!" A ringing voice was heard, and Judar stared at Aladdin for a moment. Then he raised his hand with a wand in greeting, automatically repeating after the king, and looked to Hakuryuu, who noticed him and cried out his name in surprise.

At least "Judar! What are you doing here?” was better than “Please do not interfere with my training, honorable oracle”.

Hakuryuu's exclamation attracted the attention of two generals sitting next to him at the table, looking wary but not surprised at all, as well as of Alibaba, who had almost fallen from surprise from his position, echoing Hakuryuu’s puzzled cry, as if making his best efforts to let the whole Sindria hear them.

Judar stopped, shifting the weight on one leg, and silently set to the last piece of meat on the skewer, unable to instantly come up with an explanation for what he was doing here in Sindria, not trying to smash it into small pebbles as usual.

“Judar is my guest today.” Sinbad interrupted with a radiant smile before the magi could answer.

"Only today?" Judar said slyly, moving to the table to throw the unnecessary skewer on top of that, grinning at how people out of habit visibly recoiled from him. Stopping next to the prince, he, rolling from toe to heel, was about to turn to Sinbad to hear his answer, as his eyes rested on Hakuryuu. "What's up with your hand?"

Ren, taken aback by an unexpected question, raised both hands to make sure he didn’t miss any injuries, and Judar grabbed his left wrist, demandingly pulling him towards himself and forcing him to rise from his place. The black rukh, imperceptible to the eye of an ordinary person, with a flock, escaped from touch, and the magi jerked his hand away, hearing Hakuryuu groan in pain.

“This is...” Judar began and was immediately interrupted by the king.

"What's wrong? Is everything okay?" He asked anxiously, placing the palm on the prince's shoulder.

He smiled weakly and nodded.

“Y-yes, I'm fine.” He replied, demonstrating his intact arm, while the magi twisted his head nervously, studying the terrain full of half-drunk Sindrians, and speeding up the magoi through his veins, preparing for the possible need to use magic. “This is a usual wound I received in the dungeon.”

As soon as Hakuryuu finished his soothing speech, his hand fell off, falling deafly to the ground.

It happened a little faster than Judar had expected. Three words spoken by the empress - _lost her hand_ \- ran coldly over his back, holding down movements and thoughts, not allowing even to react properly when Masrur and Ja'far arrived in time to gently move him to the side. At the same time, Hakuryuu was abducted by Yamuraiha, who had jumped from the table.

Attracted by the prince's pain cry, people scattered away from danger, forming a respectful distance to the arm, from which a black rukh flowed in a thin trickle. A moment later Ithnan appeared from it, who was famous throughout Al-Thamen because of his spectacular arrivals.

Absolutely naked Ithnan, that's all Judar totally needed right now.

The entire subsequent conversation was missed by the magi, who was frantically trying to get rid of the thought that as soon as he met his soulmate Gyokuen's threat became reality, albeit with another person. In the end, he was not accustomed to being on the side that gets hurt, he was always on the one that makes commotions and instills fear in civilians.

For once, he just wanted to quietly and calmly spend time and Sinbad to maybe _like_ him.

“No!” The magi began, noticing how Sharrkan rushed into the attack on Ithnan, chopping him in three parts and earning an irritated sigh from Judar. These people, apparently, had no idea what a fight between wizards was.

Each of the three parts formed a full clone of Ithnan and rushed to attack. Focusing on the one that was rushing to Sinbad, Judar noticed that Ja'far, who did not learn from the mistakes of his comrades, was also going to get rid of the enemy with a primitive physical attack, and without being ceremonial, pushed the king aside, reinforcing the blow with the power magic.

The clone immediately melted into the air, but black blood released from it spilled on him instead of Sinbad. As he had expected, at such a speed Ithnan could not control its movement.

One curse more, one curse less - Judar didn’t care. The magi was annoyed by something else.

"What are you fucking doing, Ithnan?" He shouted and shoved frozen Ja'far out of his way, moving to the only clone left, who was next to the tiny magi frozen in the fighting stance. "My candidate lost his hand because of you!"

The wizard stared at him as if he saw him here for the first time, and Judar again felt that the Sindrian clothes made him invisible in the crowd.

“Judar...” Ithnan said in surprise. “Why do you prevent the king of Sindria from falling into depravity?”

"Isn't it obvious?" The magi snorted and stopped in a few steps from his mentor. If someone in this world curses Sinbad, it will be himself, not some lousy old man.

Ithnan froze for a few seconds as if clearly demonstrating that he really could not understand it, and then soared into the air, not allowing Judar to ask his own question about whether the incident was done by Gyokuen's order.

The magi took a step forward, not knowing whether to immediately follow Ithnan or do it later, but got distracted, feeling a hand on his shoulder. Sinbad abruptly turned him towards himself, clasping his face with the palm and turning his head to the side in order to see the skin affected by black blood.

Judar glanced in the direction of the crowd, that was still hesitant to approach the place where Ithnan had just been raging. He tried to forcefully turn his head back to at least see the king's face, but Sinbad held him surprisingly tight. The magi somehow felt like a naughty child.

Sensing how his neck was starting to ache, Judar raised his hand and carefully touched Sinbad's wrist, which made the man flinch, collect himself, loosen his grip and then let him go.

“For you, this is...” He began evasively, looking questioningly at the magi.

"Hmm?" Rubbing his neck, Judar looked at him perplexed, not immediately understanding what he was talking about. "Well, I'm not going to die from this."

Sinbad nodded and walked away a few steps, not taking his eyes off Ithnan, who was still visible in the distance. The magi froze, being able to see in his eyes that the wizard should not expect anything good, moreover, knowing Sinbad and his relationship with Al-Thamen, he could only have one fate.

Surprisingly, Judar never wished for his mentor to die.

The magi decided to distract the king - Sinbad was worried about him, did he understand correctly? \- and, gritting his teeth, clutched at his face, where the skin must have darkened from the Ithnan's magic, trying to pretend to be a miserable man, who was suffering from the curse physically and mentally. His face was really burning in the affected places, but he knew that in his case it was normal and temporary.

Judar thought that he was a terrible actor and that everyone present could see through him, but Sinbad got distracted, turned around and returned to him, completely losing sight of the target and allowing the magi to sigh with relief.

He'll make Ithnan troubles by himself later.

"Alibaba!" Aladdin exclaimed, a little distracted by the scene unfolding in front of him, and rushed to his friend, whom, as Judar had just noticed, Ithnan also rewarded with his gift.

Without hiding his curiosity, the black magi followed him, just like the king. The curse of the candidate, who unlike him did not fall into depravity, slowly grew bigger, seizing skin. Sinbad, who was standing nearby, clenched his fists with obvious anger but decided not to go into the night to take vengeance.

Judar whistled and, holding a cool hand to his face, which relieved the pain, moved to the nearest table with food, drawing out something more or less pleasant to look at. He has not really recovered over the past day and ahead loomed the fight against someone else's curse over his own body.

“I wouldn't do this if I were you, shorty.” He said with a crunch, biting into some kind of treat, noticing how the rukh was spinning around Aladdin.

"Why is this?" The boy said sharply, looking at him with obvious dislike.

“As you wish.” Judar snorted, a little annoyed that his advice was immediately taken hostile. “It’s always funny, you know, to watch people rot alive, so I won’t interfere.”

Perhaps it was not the best phrase that was worth being spoken before respectable Sindrians.

The magi was distracted by some good-looking snack, but, having sniffed it and decided that it was made of vegetables, put it back and continued his search for food.

The shorty, apparently, heed his instructions and helplessly stood next to his candidate.

“This black blood destroys his magoi.” He said in an almost plaintive tone that made Judar turn around to see his shoulders drooping.

"This is a curse that turns into depravity, what did you think?" He answered indifferently and stopped for a while, looking for Hakuryuu in the crowd, but not finding him. The guards soothed the residents and sent them home, gradually reducing the number of those present.

Sinbad, who was attentively listening, approached Judar, who finally reached the peaches.

“It sounds like you know a lot about this magic.” He said bluntly.

"You could say that, I suppose." Swallowing a piece and almost coughing, the magi answered.

“Can you help Alibaba?” Sinbad asked directly.

Judar gave him a careful look. How didn't the magi notice by himself, that he at some point turned into a good guy who helps others for a kind word?

“Somehow I don't really want to help him at all.” He drawled, not happy by the thought of wasting time and energy on someone else’s candidate, especially now when he wanted to finish this basket of peaches and fall asleep again. Perhaps before that take a bath. But nothing more.

Sinbad frowned, it seemed he was not in awe of the fact that his soulmate wasn't an innocent and kind-hearted creature, rushing to help everybody he met. But Judar told him by their connection that he would not be delighted at the meeting.

"Can I convince you somehow?" Sinbad asked seriously.

Those things that the magi wanted from him could not be given by a simple click of the fingers, so he replied jokingly without hesitation:

“I will consider it if the great king of Sindria kneels before me.” Leaning against the table and facing Sinbad, Judar grinned mockingly.

He himself felt that now it would be enough for his soulmate to reproachfully call him by name with a sigh to get what he wanted and was not happy about it.

To his surprise, Sinbad knelt in the same place where he stood. Behind him the generals knelt hastily, burning the wizard with a glance. Seeing their king in such an inappropriate position, they were followed by the inhabitants of Sindria, who were still in the square.

Only Aladdin and Alibaba remained standing, confusedly looking around.

Not expecting that Sinbad would take the joke seriously, Judar, unsettled, was briefly distracted by the sight of other people, then looked at the king, intending to capture the view before him, but could not stand the piercing glance of Sinbad and turned away.

Even the cat's face no longer helped, as if having lost its wonderful property over time.

No wonder he kneeled so willingly. He probably only vaguely knew the royal pride, which the heirs got beaten from the earliest years into their heads. For some reason, Judar felt that Sinbad had managed to turn even such a seemingly degrading situation in favor of himself, and in harm for the enemy.

Just take a look, here he is, the very king of Sindria, who is not averse to sacrifice his pride in order to save his comrade's life.

And there is the magi, who has to be begged on the knees.

And after all, it was his own idea. He should have demanded something more substantial.

“How boring.” Judar said in an even tone, and, not looking at Sinbad, with great strides walked over to Alibaba and grabbed his hand, releasing the black rukh and stopping further progress of his curse.


	11. Chapter 11

“Your magoi... is really weird.” Judar finally sentenced.  
  
When everyone else understood that the treatment will last a long time, they were taken to one of the towers in the sindrian palace - the magi already realized that he would never remember their names and almost accepted it - and he and Alibaba sat on the chairs facing each other. Judar, resting his cheek on the fist, better than anyone present knew how long he was going to hang around in this position, holding the hand of someone else's candidate, whom he generally did not care about.

At least Sinbad heeded his unwillingness to wake up the sensitive princess, who was still struggling to get over the previous attack on her magi, just to make her face a new one, from which she could not protect him. And now the king stood nearby, towering over them and watching how Yamuraiha carefully examined Alibaba's cursed skin.

Judar had already asked the only question that interested him and, having learned that Hakuryuu was relatively okay, had lost interest in those around him, concentrating on preventing the curse from spreading further. However, being so close, he couldn't help but feel the contradictory flow of magoi, that was colliding with his own black rukh.

"What do you mean?" The blond asked with a very nervous look.

“You either recently ate a man alive, or swallowed someone else's rukh.” The magi explained in a bored tone, and his interlocutor flinched, which he could not help but notice. "Something tells me that the second case is true."

"Of course, the second!" He exclaimed in horror, and Judar grimaced at a too loud sound. 

Only the fact that he out of the corner of his eye saw Sinbad standing next to him kept him from killing this loser and heading back to Balbadd. But he was furious both with Alibaba and Ithnan and, it seemed, in general with everything that ever existed, and this feeling steadily grew. Judar even made a miserable attempt to calm down, inhaling and exhaling slowly, but suffered a crushing failure.

He needed training and good examples.

“That's worse for you.” He answered vengefully, hoping that the blond would choke on fear and shut up. "It's fatal."  
  
For a second, blissful silence reigned in the room.

"W-What?!" Several voices were heard at once from all sides, but Sinbad who stood next to him turned out to be the loudest, and with his exclamation, he made Judar grimace. The culprit of general anxiety, deathly pale from yet another deathly threat, couldn't even open his mouth.

"Fatal?" The king asked a little quieter, exchanging glances with someone behind him.

“If there isn't enough willpower to force someone else’s magoi to submit, then yes.” The magi said, who himself was no longer glad that he had raised this topic. Alibaba, of course, shut up, but all the rest, on the contrary, began to talk among themselves.

“Umm...” This same Alibaba began his question — he was silent for a too short while — and moved closer to Judar. He answered with a cold gaze, which made another's candidate come back and even a little further. "May it interfere with the full djinn equip?

The magi nodded. Such an obvious fact for him did not require an explanation.

“Is there anything I can do?” With open hope in his voice, the guy asked.

Judar had already opened his mouth to answer that he wasn't a fucking walking encyclopedia that distributed his services free to anyone, and that one shouldn't make plans for the future when their body was devoured by a curse, but he was distracted by his soulmate's voice.

“Indeed. Do you know what to do in this case?” The magi slightly turned his head to glance at Sinbad. He did not look defiant or omniscient, was just calm and collected.  


Judar was a little confused. Was the king trying to test him as a magi?

“He needs to stop being a pussy and has to submit the flow of magoi.” He answered without thinking and hesitated at the next step. "And then…"

He thought for a moment, bowing his head slightly to one side and absently tapping with his wand on his knee. Among his candidates, no one ever suffered from absorption of someone else's magoi, or from a change in its quality due to psychological trauma. He only observed this during Al-Thamen’s experiments and saw the result, but never thought about a solution.

His own magoi was constantly influenced by other fallen into depravity, but for him, this wasn't a problem, since he, as a magician, knew perfectly how it works, but ordinary people...

“Magoi manipulation.” He blurted out, cocking his head for a moment to see on Sinbad’s face whether it was the correct answer, and immediately stared at the floor, feeling very stupid. "The gladiators of the Yambala tribe. Coliseum of the Reim Empire."

A tremor passed through his body, starting from the hand holding Alibaba’s elbow, and Judar involuntarily ignored what the king had answered him. Burning with a desire to finish as soon as possible, he didn't ask again and stared at the curse, that was retreating from the blond's hand, starting at the tip of his fingers. Invisibly to others, it went over to the magi, hiding under his heavy bracelets from prying eyes.

With incredible patience, he explained how the curse works without answering Sinbad’s question about how he knew this. He said that if the curse that did not reach the heart was denied access to magoi, then it, having destroyed everything in the isolated area, will begin to devour itself. He lied a little, but they didn't need to know that it would rush to his black rukh. It was unlikely that up to this point they really believed in success and his honesty.

Alibaba raised his hand, showing what was happening to the others and causing a light sigh from the crowd. Sinbad, nodding approvingly, stepped back a little bit, and then disappeared with the shorty and the sorceress.

Left him here. Wonderful.

"Reim Empire. What kind of place is it?" Clenching clothes on his knee in a fist in a nervous impatience, Alibaba asked after some time.

Judar was so glad that it would end soon, that he found in himself a desire to answer.

“I have no idea, I was there only once.” He said relatively calmly, feeling his hand going numb. "Just told Ithnan that I want to look at the gladiatorial battles, and he dragged me there."

Alibaba fell silent for a moment, eyes wide and thinking over the answer.

“Ithnan is...” He began carefully and fell silent.

“The one who deprived Hakuryuu of his hand.” Judar confirmed, gritting his teeth in anger. “I'll beat him up as soon as ...”

He froze, sensing the echoes of extreme magic coming from the north. He knew for sure that it was Sinbad, he could even guess which djinn he used. But the king was just a couple of minutes ago here, next to him, he could not be a hundred kilometers away, except for...

The magi blinked slowly, exhaling with difficulty, hearing Alibaba say something, but unable to make out the words.

That surge of magic, that was very close, not so long ago, to which he had paid no attention, it wasn't an attempt to restore the barrier, but teleportation magic.

Sinbad had just killed Ithnan - of course, he couldn’t just let a member of Al-Thamen who had attacked his precious Sindria go - and will be returning now, probably not even suspecting that Judar understood what had happened. Judar, who was also a member of Al-Thamen and also attacked Sindria, even injured a couple of guards.

Two attacks by Al-Thamen in one day. So ridiculous that one would even want to cry.

Judar tried to swallow a lump formed in his throat, but he couldn't, watching the remnants of the curse leave the blond's skin, feeling his heart pounding loudly from the resulting panic.

Before he could figure out whether it was possible to somehow use Alibaba’s curse to his advantage, it completely went over to him, and Judar abruptly released his hand, rose from his seat and rushed to the window, ignoring all the awkward words of gratitude.

"Wait, where are you going?" One of the generals of Sinbad was alarmed, his approach making Judar, who was busy opening the window, nervous. He would get lost a hundred times if he tried to find the usual way out of the building.

“To Kou.” He answered briefly, hastily stepping on the window frame and pushing away so that they wouldn't have time to stop him.

To Judar's surprise, no one followed him, and he without any problems passing through the barrier of Sindria and at all speed darted towards Balbadd, that was the nearest large source of energy, which the magi could easily feel.

After about ten minutes of flight, he realized that he wouldn't get to the continent. He was tired of flying to Sindria the previous night, breaking through its barrier, suffering an injury, sitting with Alibaba for a couple of hours, releasing a dense stream of black rukh and still struggling with his own curse.

He was so tired and so nervous that he forgot his carpet, which he left on one of the small islets that surrounded Sindria.

There was no strength to get on his own. Judar froze for a few moments, reluctantly turned around and very slowly moved back. He prayed to immediately remember exactly where he left the carpet.

He didn’t.

When he, cursing on the third visited island, used magic to move away the stone, which he had previously pressed down on his carpet so that it wouldn't fly away, a magic sign appeared in front of him, a couple of meters in diameter, illuminating the barren land in addition to the rising sun.

It’s completely unlike Dantalion’s teleportation circles, so maybe...

Holding onto the edge of the sign, Sinbad climbed out of it, looking around and almost immediately finding his soulmate. After staring at him for a couple of moments, he looked with obvious bewilderment at the steep mountains surrounding his kingdom, which could be easily reached.

It looked suspicious, Judar understood it very well. He left Sindria half an hour ago, but did not move away from it for a kilometer.

But how did he find him and Ithnan with such accuracy? It seemed like he has seriously underestimated the barrier.

“I forgot about the carpet.” He muttered an explanation under his breath, while hoping and fearing that the king would hear him, and straightened the carpet, leaving it to hover about half a meter above the ground.

Sinbad heard and nodded silently.

"Why did you leave?" He asked after a while.

“I have things to do.” Judar answered quickly, and he clearly understood how pathetic and false it sounded.

“I see.” With clear regret in his voice, from which the magi's heart suddenly sank, the king finished their conversation, looking at the carpet, that was smoothly trembling from the air currents.

After half a minute of silence, Judar put his first foot on his means of transportation, intending to get to Balbadd by evening, and Sinbad, with a sigh, reduced the distance between them, causing the magi to noticeably strain, and hugged him.

Judar froze in an awkward pose, one foot on the carpet, the other on the ground, not knowing where to put his hands, his feet and himself. Sinbad grabbed his waist, pulling him a little closer, resting his head on his shoulder. One of his earrings banged loudly on the magi's necklace, making him awkwardly tilt his head in the opposite direction, and they both froze.

Judar squinted, trying to look at the king's expression, but it was hidden behind his hair.

What was going on here? He happened to see a couple of farewell hugs, after which the one who was hugged was usually killed with a blade in the abdomen with a very sad smile on face. On Sinbad’s wrist, he saw one of his djinn vessels and tensed, expecting an attack, but still not breaking out of his embrace, although it represented a clear danger to him.

But time passed, and Sinbad did not move, only breathed measuredly, warmly tickling his shoulder.

He smelled good. And he was very warm.

After a few minutes, Judar relaxed a bit, not because he wanted to, but because his tired body simply couldn’t do otherwise. The magi could have sworn that he felt the king smile at his shoulder.

He nervously squeezed and unclenched his free hand.

“Maybe you will stay at least one more day?” Without changing the pose, Sinbad asked.

The carpet fluttered under his foot, calling for a long flight, during which he could freeze to the very bones. For the flight to Balbadd, where he'll still have to explain to Koumei why he was wearing Sindrian clothing. Where there'll be no _Sinbad_.

While the curse imposed by Ithnan was still in his body, he could _try_ and return his identity in some form.

Continuous excuses for the simple desire to _stay_.

"Okay."


	12. Chapter 12

With difficulty opening his eyes Judar stared sleepily in front of him, trying to recover at least a little, and put his hand under the pillow, grabbing the wand hidden under it. All night he dreamed of something heavy and unpleasant, he even seemed to wake up a couple of times for no reason. Thoughts barely tossed and turned, and the magi hastened to take a sitting position, so as not to fall asleep again.

He absentmindedly looked at the two bedspreads, one thinner, the other warmer, which he was sheltered with and which had moved when he got up, and threw them aside, trying to put together thoughts that were spreading in all directions.

His gaze stopped for a couple of minutes on a streak of light coming from under heavy curtains. He clearly remembered how Sinbad closed this window yesterday so that morning sunlight would not interfere with sleep, but the rest merged into one big cycle of fatigue due to the last effort necessary to finally drive the curse under the skin, hiding it from strangers' views.

Sinbad kind of even asked him about something, about whether he takes off his bracelets for the night, and about something else, but Judar honestly spent all his efforts not to stumble on the way to the room, and after several awkward questions, the king gave up.

The magi got to his feet and threw open the curtains, grimacing and squinting from the bright light, and froze, the look that stretched out before him caught him by surprise. He was in the same building in which he woke up yesterday, but only now, in the light of day, he could see something beyond a few hundred meters.

Judar used to throw only a couple of disinterested glances from above, never giving Sindria itself as much attention as its king. And even now his thoughts immediately darted to Sinbad, who probably got up every morning, just as he was now, opened his curtains and admired his beloved country, that was hiding from the enemy’s eyes behind the lifeless stone slopes.

Bowing his head to one side, Judar tried to imagine this feeling of pride of his country, but after a couple of moments, he gave up and turned to look at the room in which he was.

The first thing that he couldn't miss was that it was several times larger than the previous one and was full of signs that it was residential. On the walls hung works of art that were boring for him, a wide four-poster bed was buried in an abundance of pillows, and the carpet drowned out the already quiet sound of footsteps. Some scrolls were scattered on the table, a half-read book lay there - Judar came closer to take a look, but wasn't interested in what was written. Instead, he grabbed a peach from a fruit basket.

Searching a bit around the room, he found a comb and, having unfastened his ponytail, that was barely a ponytail at all after sleep, he began to absent-mindedly arrange his hair.

In this part of the palace, it was very quiet, only occasionally in the distance there were footsteps and indiscriminate conversations. Not knowing how to entertain himself, Judar again glanced at the scrolls, but immediately became entangled in even columns of numbers. Whoever the owner of the room who temporarily ceded it to him was, the magi did not envy them.

For lack of another topic, his thoughts jumped to the Ithnan's magoi, which was now flowing through his veins and giving little pleasure when confronted with his own. The magi looked around again, combing his hair with a fuse, but did not find a suitable vessel in the room, alive enough to be accepted by the magoi, and unconscious not to resist transmission.

Judar did not intend to tolerate Ithnan's presence up to his return to Balbadd, although he realized that it wasn't safe to overflow the magoi in Sindria, whose king would become immediately infuriated and will then try to destroy all his efforts.

When he finished braiding his hair, Judar stared thoughtfully at the inkwell and pen that had been kindly left on the table. He wanted to get rid of Ithnan, who was slowly getting on his nerves, before he began to demand attention from his soulmate. This circumstance could even be  politicly used to his advantage, as he was appearing to the king patient and understanding.

Judar humphed. If he were Sinbad, he would be nervous about such a change in the magi's character. But it was worth a shot.

**“Are you busy?”** He wrote slowly on his forearm, rolling up his sleeve of Sindrian clothing.

**“Yes.”** The answer almost immediately appeared under his question, as if Sinbad was sitting ready with a pen.

**"Okay"**.

Rising from his seat, Judar stretched himself, raising hands up. He roughly knew which vessel would suit him, but had no idea how to get it in unfriendly Sindria. Deciding that there's no use in sitting still, he strode forward to the exit of the room, swinging the door open.

Staring at the corridor before him, the magi froze for a moment, realizing that he had no idea how to get out of the building. Deciding to use the window in the old fashioned way, he began to turn back and only then noticed the Fanalis standing against the wall next to the doorway, strictly holding his hands behind his back.

Judar stiffened up a little bit and stared suspiciously at the general, who answered him with a calm look. The silence dragged on while the magi wondered if he should just, without saying a word, close the door and get out through the window.

Most likely not if Masrur was assigned to follow him.

"What are you doing here?" Judar dared to ask, not hiding his displeasure. He was even more annoyed that the Fanalis did not flinch a single muscle on his face as if he was looking at some kind of bug.

"Sinbad asked me."

The magi easily imagined a meeting of eight generals, who were trying to appeal to the prudence of their king, as a result of which he “asked” one of them to look after his soulmate while he was busy.

Judar turned away so as not to be distracted by his deadpan face. It is unlikely that Sinbad was so alarmed by his message that he sent one of his generals as a nanny. Has he been just standing here and waiting for the magi to wake up? He shot a quick glance at Masrur - a normal person would be annoyed by such a thing, but this one just stood there with an impenetrable expression on his face.

How could Judar know what he was doing in the hallway. Maybe he did push-ups without stopping, or whatever the Fanalis' do to spend their free time.

“Do you know where Hakuryuu is?” After thinking a little, he asked, deciding to give the fact that the general was here at least some sense.

“In the guest tower,” Masrur answered, and Judar was even a little grateful that he did not use any intricate Sindrian names that the magi would have forgotten right there. "I will accompany you."

The Fanalis waited for Judar to nod and close the door behind him, and then rushed forward with a speed, which he could hardly keep up with. They somehow got out of the building with unknown ways and walked along the palace square to the tower with the bell, with which a couple of not very pleasant memories of the magi were already associated. In the distance, he noticed the red head of Kougyoku, which stood out clearly against the background of the white Sindrian buildings and clothes. He braked for a while in indecision, but then hurried after Masrur, who already managed to get to the tower.

Without bothering to explain where they were going, to which Judar was deeply grateful, the Fanalis went up several floors, skipping several steps at once, and the magi followed him, supporting himself with magic, so as not to shamelessly get out of breath. After several turns, he saw his favorite in the distance and perked up, blurring in his usual smile.

"Hey, Hakuryuu!" He shouted from afar, feeling how treacherously his heart skipped a beat at the sight of his missing hand.

The Fanalis girl, who was standing next to the prince with some incredible structures in her arms, stared at him with unblinking eyes. It seemed that only the presence of the fellow kept her from taking a fighting stance.

“Judar...” Hakuryuu answered cautiously, clutching a spear in his hand. "Why are you here?"

The magi, who was with curiosity staring at the vessel, got distracted and threw up his head.

“I want to take a look at your djinn, of course.” He answered, returning all his attention to the eight-pointed mark on the spear again.

As he found out from the color of the rukh at yesterday's feast, it was a djinn of the life type. In Sindria's limited resources for the magi, this opened up new prospects for creating a vessel for Ithnan's magoi. And for the lost hand of a prince. When Judar had already opened his mouth to ask about the name of the djinn, the guy with a clear worry in his voice asked:

“I'm not talking about that.” Hakuryuu glanced nervously at the two taciturnly speaking Fanalis'. “Why are you here in Sindria?”

The magi knew how distrustful his candidate was and that he might well have begun to think that Judar was here for Al-Thamen’s goals, so he hurried to soothingly wave his hand to rid the prince of unnecessary suspicions.

“The reason is as old as the world itself.” He snorted. “I'm here to spend some time with my soulmate.”

Hakuryuu stared at him as if Judar had just revealed to him the simple truth that Kouen actually adores his little cousin. The prince bewilderedly transferred weight from foot to foot.

“And you also have a soulmate...” He muttered, to which Judar nodded. "And who is it?"

“You don't know.” The magi said more affirmatively than inquiringly and cast a glance at the general. For some reason, it seemed to him that, having learned about the identity of his soulmate, Sinbad would rush around his country, personally bringing this message to his citizens. Perhaps this would be the case if someone else had been his soulmate. "Since he didn't say anything, then I won't too. You're not stupid, you'll figure it out."  


Hakuryuu frowned, obviously starting to think about it. Not quite what Judar was counting on.

The easiest way, of course, would be to directly call the djinn and ask all the questions, but he preferred not to do this, as they all were horrified by his black rukh and kept quiet, advising their masters to do the same. And the prince himself is hardly an expert in the necessary subtleties.

“Your djinn has the eighth type of rukh, right?” Judar began to evasively approach the question of interest to him, and Hakuryuu frowned. "This means that he creates various forms of life and manipulates them."

A nod.

“Can you do me a favor?” The magi continued before the prince managed to refuse him without even listening. “I need a flower that will live for at least a couple of months, about this size.” He showed a distance of several tens of centimeters and winked at his candidate. "At the same time, you will practice using your djinn."

Hakuryu sized him up with a hard stare.

“Why don't you do it yourself?”

“I am not too good at life magic.” Judar laughed unhappily, looking away to the side and remembering how much time it took for him, the magi, to heal even that not very serious wound.

“Well, I will do it.” Hakuryuu answered surprisingly cooperatively, having earned the bewildered gaze of the magi. “But you do me a favor too.”

"Which favor?" Smiling, Judar threw his hands behind his head.  
  
He could suggest a couple of advantages that the far from frivolous prince could derive from such a deal, although he was not going to indulge him.  
  
"Leave Sindria." 

The pleased expression immediately vanished under Hakuryuu's  stiff and stubborn gaze. But still, he could not help but admit that he really liked this gaze, even when it was aimed at himself. The Fanalis', who undoubtedly had heard every spoken word, but were polite enough to ignore, turned around and stared at them, catching a change of mood in the conversation.

“You know, Hakuryuu.” Judar began, yielding to the seriousness in the air. “When I leave Sindria depends on me and my soul, but not on you.”

The prince continued to gaze with displeasure at him, and the magi could not help but admit that his candidate, after a few days away from his homeland, has got very perked up and insolent. In Kou, for this, he would have to be drunk.

“But how was someone like you allowed to stay in this country?” The prince blurted out, moving closer.

Judar tilted his head, puzzled. Maybe Hakuryuu was really drunk, since he got so excited? The magi said nothing, not going to give clues that the one whose voice had the greatest weight in this country was the one who asked him to stay.

“The king personally allowed him to.” Masrur’s unflappable voice sounded, and that made the prince calm down a little, as if he had suddenly remembered that they were not alone.

The magi watched him with curiosity for a moment as Hakuryuu frowned in displeasure, and then moved on to a more important issue.

“I can teach you how to use the djinn equip.” He said with a shrug. He was sure that in this era no other magi could boast the same amount of experience in this field, given how many candidates he had already trained.

“Thank you, no.” The prince instantly answered with his standard phrase to any suggestions from Judar.

He was taken aback for a second, but decided that he answered without taking time to really think.

“And who are you going to learn from? Or on your own?" He asked, thinking that he would definitely not allow him to take Sinbad’s free time.

“I can handle it somehow. I don’t need the help of the organization.” Hakuryu answered, holding his hands together in the traditional oriental gesture of gratitude and bowing his head slightly, creating a wall of formality between them.  
  
Judar humphed, already about guessing where this conversation would lead.

"Are you going to cling to your sister's skirt again?" Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed how the Fanalis girl cast cautious glances at them. “Everything that she knows about djinns, I taught her. Whether she will teach you, or I, the result is the same as for me."

Hakuryuu, who had just restored his delicate balance of mind, again stared at him angrily.  
  
"I do not need handouts from Al-Thamen's pawn!"

"Gyokuen's lapdog is bearing teeth. How cute.” Judar was touched and flinched slightly, frozen in place when the prince, who lost his temper, unceremoniously dropped his spear on the ground and tried to punch him in the face.

Seeing how the Borg was protecting him, the magi laughed, remembering Sinbad, who crashed into the defense twice in a row. At that moment when he began to think about whether he was dishonest enough to respond with a blow to a wounded man, the prince clutched his left hand, bent in half from the surging pain.

"Mr. Hakuryu!" The Fanalis exclaimed, and immediately rushed to him with excitement, distracting Judar from his joyless thoughts.

Having seen enough of this suffering candidate, the magi decided to make the result permanent and quickly leave, so as not to recall Gyokuen with her threats, feeling a chill down his spine.

“When you change your mind.” He said, to which Hakuryuu threw up his head angrily. "Come. And say “Oh Judar, I was stupid and didn't realize your kindness. Please teach me", and I will think about it."

The prince answered him with a very eloquent look, implying that even the threat of the death penalty would not force him to say something like that now.

Not too dejected by this, Judar waved his hand goodbye and walked away. As expected, Masrur, having said goodbye to his fellow, moved after him, without making the magi delighted about that.

Until sunset, Judar wandered around the palace, peering into every corner of interest to him and disappointingly clicking his tongue whenever any door turned out to be closed. The silent presence of the general behind saved him from unnecessary questions, but added curious glances in his direction, which the servants did not even try to hide.

The Fanalis gave brief explanations of the places they visited, and Judar found out with some surprise that the Sindrian palace served as the control center of the entire alliance of the seven seas rather than magnificent proof of the greatness of its ruler. He couldn't deny that this was an extremely beautiful place, the craftsmen from the whole alliance probably worked together to create it, but it didn't overpower anyone with the priceless brilliance of gold like in every other palace.

Only one element was absent in the Sindrian palace, with the exception of the magnificent throne room, which not one ruler of those whom he met left without attention - it was a harem. Judar climbed up and down all the buildings, but did not find a hint of a place where strangers are forbidden. Of course, he had heard of Sindria's incomparable brothels, but still it wasn't the same thing.

Does Sinbad, known for half a continent for his addiction to women, keep his concubines underground in secret rooms, which can only be reached by secret passages?

On the other hand, Judar saw with his own eyes how lustfully the female residents of Sindria looked at their king yesterday at the feast. With such an attitude, there was no point in spending money on a harem - any woman on the island would take Sinbad's interest as an honor.  


The magi discovered his soulmate only after sunset, returning to his temporary room with the help of the Fanalis. Sinbad sat in an arm-chair, cross-legged, and ate some local royal-sized shell dish, attentively reading the scrolls opened in front of him on the table. Hearing the door open, he threw up his head and nodded his welcome.

From the sight of the food, Judar immediately swallowed his saliva. He grabbed a couple of snacks from the kitchen during the day to kill the hunger, and this was clearly not enough. Realizing without further hints that the shell on the table opposite to Sinbad was intended for him, the magi willingly flopped down on the second chair and set to work on an unknown dish.

Masrur immediately said goodbye, leaving Judar staring at the concentrated king, who was now and then putting aside a spoon in order to make a note in the scrolls. The magi sometimes had a headache from just looking at the papers with which Koumei wandered day and night, frightening those around with dark bags under his eyes, in which he probably once lost his sense of humor. But he himself couldn't boast about a sound and healthy sleep for the past few months and wasn't sure if his eyes were visible behind his bags.

“I heard that you and Hakuryuu had a quarrel.” Sinbad casually mentioned, setting aside his empty dishes.  
  
Judar raised his eyebrows, a little surprised at the choice of the topic of conversation and the fact that the king knew about it at all.

“This is a common thing.” He replied, and noticing how Sinbad, with an interested look, propped his cheek on his fist, leaning on an armrest, decided to continue. “Kouen told me — I don’t remember this anymore — that when I first arrived in the empire, they decided that it would be nice if the magi solemnly chose his candidate. The elder sons of the emperor and his brother were put in line: Hakuyuu, Hakuren, Kouen and Koumei..."

Judar stammered, realizing that these names did not really say anything to Sinbad.

"In general, according to Kouen, I ignored all this sparkling fraternity in armor and went to Hakuryuu, who was stained in snot, crying due to the fact that he was not allowed to go to his elder brothers. He was about four years old back then. So you can say that of all the candidates that Al-Thamen represented to me, this mess has always been and is my first choice."

The magi did not consider either Barbarossa or Serendine, whom he followed only on the orders of the organization, but did not treasure.

"What about me?" Sinbad inquired, changing his pose and clasping his hands, leaning slightly forward.  
  
Judar froze for a moment.

“It's hard to call you a “candidate that Al-Thamen represented to me".” He remarked with a laugh. "If you feel flattered by this, then you are my first choice among the candidates that I have found myself."  
  
The king grinned from such honor, leaning back in his chair.  
  
“The first and only.” Judar said immediately with a chuckle. “I'm too lazy to waste my time and search on my own.”

Sinbad laughed, shaking his head, and grabbed one of the scrolls to distract himself. The magi, having finished his portion by this moment, put his shell aside and, having slightly pushed back his chair and freeing up space on the table, imposingly threw his legs at it, thereby earning a reproachful look from the king.

“You could have said that with a candidate like me, you don’t need to look for others.” Sinbad softly rebuked him, taking up the next paper.  
  
Judar stared at the ceiling, feeling his heart skip a beat.  
  
“I could have, of course, yes.” He confirmed dryly.

An unpleasant silence fell for a short while, forcing the magi to seriously begin to think about how to get rid of Sinbad to meet with him tomorrow with a fresh head and a more cheerful mood.

“More recently, that very mess told me that he didn't want to rely on your strength, no matter what it costs him.” The king remembered, not looking up from the papers.

Stopping thoughtfully poking a finger at the shell, Judar started in surprise and stared at Sinbad, trying to understand why he was telling him this. The king looked utterly ordinary, with his head uncovered and the vessels of djinns lying on the edge of the table, and did not look up, staring stubbornly at a piece of paper.

“Well, you know.” The magi began slowly. "It happens that you want someone entirely, and they answer you with contempt."  
  
Finally looking up for a moment, Sinbad glanced at him, and Judar felt a chill.

“I suppose this is familiar to me.” He answered in an even tone, and the magi tried to urgently remember at what exact moment he had rejected the sincere confession of the king. Something from childhood, which he did not even really remember?

The damn Sinbad managed to make him feel guilty with just one look, even if it was not entirely clear why.

“Looking back, I think,” The king continued slowly, not noticing how the paper was wrinkled in his hands. “That you laughed at me all this time.”

"What do you mean?" Not waiting for the continuation from Sinbad, who had suddenly pulled a long face, Judar asked nervously, and he was long missing the point of the conversation.  
  
He took a deep breath before answering, smoothing a crumpled sheet.

“All these years, knowing that I was looking for my soulmate, you came, pissed me off, then disappeared without saying a word, plaguing me with this, and...” He quickly began to list, prompting the magi to think that he was thinking about this not the first hour and not the first day.

“No, no, you seem to have misunderstood something.” Pulling his legs from the table to himself, Judar raised his hands, stopping the flow of accusations against him, forcing Sinbad to take on a rather perplexed look. “I didn't know anything. Just recently, in Kou, when I saw your arms, I understood. Then, with Kougyoku, remember?"  
  
The king nodded slowly, not completely convinced.  
  
“But I habe been constantly writing to you. About who I am, and about where I, and so on.” He objected, although not too confidently.

The magi jerked his shoulders, feeling uncomfortable.  
  
"I never answered... And I never read."  
  
Sinbad shook his head with force, brushing off his words, as if knowing it better than himself, and then froze.

"Judar, how old are you?" He asked with clear anxiety on his face.  
  
“Eight... That is, nineteen.” The magi answered, again not understanding what his interlocutor was leading to.  
  
“And when did you learn to write and read?..” Sinbad continued impatiently.  
  
“I have no idea.” Judar was taken aback. "As everyone?"

The king stared at him for several seconds with an attentive and incredulous look, and then leaned back with an exhausted groan, hiding his face in his hands and plunging the magi in shock.  
  
“And you never answered me because of?..” A little later, he asked the last question.  
  
“Because of Al-Thamen.” Dismissing the thought of making a joke about the fact that his soul was terribly old, since he had forgotten their conversation yesterday, Judar answered.

“Because of Al-Thamen.” Sinbad repeated with a very gloomy expression on his face, looking up to the ceiling, and the magi nodded mechanically, even though he knew that he was not looking at him. "Al-Thamen."

Judar froze when he saw a few black birds burst into the dense stream of the king’s rukh, standing out like dirt on snow-white clothes. He staggered back, deciding that it was his own that went for an unexpected walk, but they continued to circle around Sinbad, gradually adding in quantity, making the magi nervous. He sighed loudly.  


“Do you blame me for this?” After a while of silence, he asked.  
  
Having gone too far in thought, the king, startled by surprise, turned his golden eyes to him.  
  
"Blame you? No, not at all. There is no way I can blame a person who was under the influence of _this organization_ since childhood."

“So Aladdin told you.” Judar said through gritted teeth, feeling agitated irritation.  
  
"Told me what?" " With an unplayed misunderstanding in his voice, Sinbad asked.  
  
"That...” The magi began and clenched his jaw, not allowing himself to say unwanted words.

He could well imagine Sinbad's compassionate face, as he was comfortingly laying a hand on his shoulder, if he were to know that Judar was with Al-Thamen not just from childhood, but from _birth_ , and _at what cost_. And he absolutely did not want this.

“For your information, I have never discussed you with Aladdin since Balbadd.” The king said with a honest look.  
  
“Yeah...” Judar answered only that, already wishing that he had raised this subject. Inhaling and exhaling several times, he laughed merrily. “You really don't know anything about me, but you still say that you don't blame me. How good you are, Sinbad."  
  
He smiled sadly and jokingly objected:

“How do I know nothing?” He was indignant and defiantly bent one finger. “I know you hate vegetables.”  
  
“Yes, I do.” Judar confirmed, and pulled closer an untouched glass with an incomprehensible orange liquid.

“Then, you love making fun of servants.” He bent his next finger.  
  
“Yes, I do.” The magi nodded and, after sniffing, drank the entire glass in one gulp.  
  
“Now I know that you are interested in prince Hakuryuu.”  
  
“Yes, I am.” Judar grimaced at the sour aftertaste and swore not to drink anything like that anymore.  
  
“And that you love King Sinbad.”  
  
“Yes, I do.” The magi repeated without thinking, putting the glass back on the table. Realizing what he had just said, Judar stared in bewilderment at the king, who burst out laughing at his own joke.

Judar concluded that he would never really understand Sinbad’s train of thought, watching him wipe away the tears that came out of laughter.  
  
Perhaps this is for the best.

“I'm sorry.” The king said suddenly, catching his breath. "That I lashed out at you with all of this."

“It's okay.” The magi answered with a shrug, watching him rise from his seat, and expecting that this would end the evening conversations.  
  
“Thank you.” Sinbad sincerely said, although Judar did not know exactly why, and, collecting the dirty dishes, he went to the door.  
  
Leaving the magi alone with his djinn vessels.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Additional information for AU 1
> 
> For those who may be interested, I’m giving a list of soulmates in this story, most of which, however, may appear in the text:
> 
> Sinbad | Judar - they broke the record for how long it took them to finally meet normally.  
> Alibaba | Morgiana - she still sees in him her benefactor, but not her potential groom, but Ali does not give up.  
> Yamuraiha | Sharrkan, Dunya | Isaac, Esra | Badr (parents of Sinbad), Dragon | Sahel - well, where without these couples.  
> Hakuryuu | Hakuei - a relationship between relatives, even close ones, is a common thing since it does not imply a romantic relationship (but Sinbad's parents seem to have forgotten to tell him this). In addition to them, similar soulmates are Serendine | Seyran, Hinahoho | Pipirika, Mistras | Spartos.  
> Ka Kobun | glory.
> 
> In addition, it is worth highlighting the top five, who are least fortunate in this regard:  
> Aladdin - he does not belong to this world and therefore does not have a soulmate at all.  
> Kougyoku - her soul died in infancy before her birth.  
> Masrur | Morgiana's mother - Jafar helped him, who was not able to write as a child, to communicate with his soul. She died as a slave before the Fanalis managed to find her, and then he began to look for her daughter, whom only her name he knows about, to prevent her from repeating her mother’s fate.  
> Ja'far - killed his soul mate to be recognized as an assassin of Sham Lash.  
> Kouen | Hakuyuu - Kouen conquered the dungeons called up by Judar, one after another, to be able to help his soulmate maintain peace in the empire, but, returning with Phoenix, he discovered that Hakuyuu died in a fire. Kouen recalls him every time he sees Hakuryuu, who every year becomes more and more like his older brother.


End file.
